The Cowboy Says Yes, page 3
Expansion of his business and support for his wife’s.
How the hell did you say no to that?
Oh right, asshole. You don’t.
He shifted in his chair and caught a whiff of himself and stood, letting out another string of curses. He’d come in here to wrap up his day and get a bit of paperwork out of the way before heading in. The paperwork sucked, but it was a handy excuse to himself to basically prove he wasn’t hiding out.
And it gave the crew time to get packed up and get gone.
Only now it was past eight and instead of giving the crew time to leave, his procrastination-that-wasn’t-hiding-out had ensured he was sitting on a bit of information that had to be discussed.
Especially if she had the same news.
Only now he had to discuss it while smelling like a pigsty. And he was probably insulting the pigs.
Slapping his hand against his thigh he stood and left his office, housed in the back of the stables. The horses had all been seen to, tended and bedded down for the night. A few whickered at him as he moved past and he stopped when he reached Gator’s door.
Gator’s dark chestnut coat gleamed in the dimmed overhead lights. He was a magnificent animal but here, now, standing in the quiet, Zack also knew him as a friend.
“When did my life become a clichéd country-and-western song?”
Zack barely realized he wanted to speak before the words came out. Silly at first—but as the question lit up the quiet barn he recognized the desperate need to say them.
He had more to be grateful for in his life than he could have ever imagined. A successful business. Land that had passed down to him through generations and which lived in his bones. And people he loved. Why was it so hard to talk to them? And where had this seemingly endless well of anger and resentment and the sheer bile of it all come from?
He wasn’t the easiest person to get along with and knew it. He had four sisters and a brother, all younger, which meant he’d been coddled, teased, indulged and, more than he ever should have been, revered. As Charlie Wayne’s son—and the only one who’d followed him into the business—that reverence had blown from a different angle as well.
He was the legacy. A weight no matter the situation but one even heavier by dint of his younger brother’s determined walk away from the business. And while his father would never have stood in the way of his daughters having a piece of the ranch, none of them wanted it. They took their financial share, as was their due, and wanted very little else. Beyond that, what Zack built, he kept.
It was only Hadley who’d seen him differently.
Hadley who knew how to build him up or tear him down. Mercilessly on either count. And Hadley who was his partner. She could do it all because she was his equal. With her, he’d never felt that his life was a legacy. Rather, he’d just been Zack Wayne. A guy who owned some cows. And who she looked at like he hung the moon.
Or she did once upon a time.
Gator bumped his head beneath Zack’s chin, the gesture of affection also one of support. If the horse could actually pull a Mr. Ed on him, he’d likely have said, “Chin up and pull it together, man.”
Instead, Gator butted him once more before his nose quivered.
“Yeah, yeah,” Zack groused, not sure if the horse’s reaction was to his own pungent scent or the sugar in his pocket. “You can tell me I stink but I’ve got a few cubes for you in my pocket.”
He fed the horse the sugar, the light brush of whiskers tickling his palm before Zack gave the horse one last pat. He’d stalled long enough. And as much as he’d like to find the answers to the universe in the support of his horse, life simply wasn’t like that.
In minutes he’d crossed the large field between the barn and the ranch house and come in through the back door. His one goal—of avoiding the crew—had been a success and other than a dim light reflecting from the kitchen, the house was silent.
It was so quiet he could almost believe he hadn’t had sixty extra people taking up space on his lawn, his property and inside his home for the past four weeks. Curious to see if everything was back in its place, he passed through the kitchen, the countertops practically gleaming in the light over the stovetop. He didn’t see Hadley—and was as relieved as he was disappointed by that fact—before he caught the soft glow from the far end of the hall after he crossed through their dining room.
Something strange tugged him that direction, even though he could take the back stairs and avoid her entirely.
As a practical matter, they needed to discuss the email.
But he wasn’t feeling all that practical. And something about those moments outside earlier, when he’d pulled her close at the end of the shot, had crawled under his skin all afternoon.
How could she look so fresh—and feel so brand-new—even after all that had happened between them?
And how was it the woman could still leave him feeling as if he’d been skewered straight through after just one look.
It had been like that from the first moment he’d seen her. That sort of breathless awe that tightened his chest because his heart was inexorably expanding beneath his ribcage. It was a ridiculous thought, made even more so by the reality of their marriage, yet he felt it all the same.
And once, she’d felt it, too.
With that thought thrumming through his mind, he took the last stretch of hallway until he hit the entrance to the small library they kept on the first floor. He’d built the house the first year he made a profit on the business—all on his own—and had some specific rooms in mind for the design. The library had been a throwback to an idea he’d had as a kid. A library meant you were smart. It meant that even if you worked with your hands all day or came in smelling like cow shit, you had something in your home that celebrated learning.
And it had been a wonder the first time he’d brought Hadley to his home, walking her through the house room by room, when she’d stopped at the doorway to the library, her mouth dropping wide open at the wall-to-wall bookcases. She loved cooking, but she’d often said this was her favorite room in the house. Her sanctuary when things got crazy and she just wanted an hour of quiet.
He expected to find her curled up on one of the overstuffed chairs near the window but instead, found her seated on the floor, a large set of architectural drawings laid out before her.
“Hey.” She looked up, her gaze refocusing on him and off the small words that littered the drawings.
He nodded at the greeting before his gaze drifted to the notepad beside her, her handwriting covering the page from top to bottom. “What are you doing?”
“Making notes for all the things I want to go over with the architect on the Trading Post. I want to make a few changes to the front area.”
He thought they were close to done on the interior work so the plan changes were a surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to be moving in product to be open in time for the holidays?”
“We have a few more weeks and your mom brought it up to him when he was in today. He can make changes if we move on them quickly.”
“My mother is now directing architectural design?” The words were out before he could pull them back, the deeply rooted resentment at his mother’s new “job” layered underneath each and every one.
To Hadley’s credit, she held her tongue, her tone even and measured in her response. “She’s had some wonderful ideas, Zack. Her eye is sharp and I’m grateful for her help.”
He wasn’t sure if it was the obvious gratitude or the calm tone or the fact that all the ire and confusion and tension that had ridden his shoulders all day finally had a place to land but in seconds he was lobbing an emotional grenade straight at her.
And wasn’t shocked when it imploded dead center of the room, all over her precious plans.
“Grateful? Or coming to realize you’re abandoning her with this project when you go on your book tour.”
“Did you come in here for a real reason? Or was it just to continue part two of this afternoon’s episode of How to Be an Asshole by Zachary Wayne?”
“And here we go. God forbid I suggest Princess Hadley might be thinking only of herself.”
She’d remained calm up until that point but the princess remark hit a straight bullseye.
“Who do you suggest I worry about, Zack? The imaginary children we don’t have? The ranch employees we hide our problems from? I sure as hell can’t take care of you since you make yourself scarce around here.” She stood at that, her hands finding her slim hips. “Who the hell else should I worry about?”
The question was left, hanging in the room, when his phone went off with a text at the same time the ringer kicked in.
He dug it out of his pocket, Carter’s name on the face. His foreman never called in the evening unless there was a problem. “It’s Carter.”
“Answer it.”
He heard no malice beneath the suggestion, only an odd understanding.
“Wayne.”
“Need you down at the south pasture. We’ve got a problem with that calf I mentioned earlier.”
“What problem?”
“He’s on the ground and he’s not responding. His mama’s in a bad snit and we need to get the herd moved off around them.”
“You call Gray?”
“On his way.”
“So am I.”
Zack shoved the phone back in his pocket, suddenly aware his wife was still standing there. “I need to go.”
“I heard.”
“We—”
The anger he’d worked up—the one he’d been so determined needed a place to land—suddenly seemed empty. Flat.
But it was Hadley’s order—and that gentle understanding that still laced her voice—that had him moving. “Go.”
Chapter 3
Hadley had finished her notes a half hour ago, the task nearly done before Zack’s ill-timed entrance and the brewing fight.
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” she muttered to herself as she slammed the baking pan on the counter, her intention to remove any lingering air bubbles in the brownies a convenient excuse for the anger that still roiled inside. That fight hadn’t needed any time to brew at all. Nope. It had full-test strength from the first verbal bomb Zack shot into the room.
She wasn’t mad he’d left. The ranch needed tending and a sick calf was a problem. For the animal in question and, in the event there was a bigger situation afoot, for the health of the broader herd.
It was the neat hand grenades that had come before his departure that still had her pissed off.
She wasn’t abandoning his mother to the work of the Trading Post. Carlene wanted it—had asked for more to do—and Hadley wasn’t above helping her out. Although she’d been incredibly careful to avoid mentioning any of her troubles with Zack, Carlene hadn’t been so quiet on her own troubles with Charlie. And the man’s mounting frustration at his role on the ranch—or increasing lack of one—had spilled over to their marriage.
While she had a lot of compassion for her father-in-law, she wasn’t above taking sides on the current situation and her loyalties lay firmly with Carlene. They’d all known the daily physical pressures of running the ranch would grow too much for Charlie. And somewhere inside, Hadley thought to herself as she set the brownies in the oven, Charlie did too. But they’d all grown tired of coddling him and his aging ego.
Carlene most of all.
The Trading Post had started out as a great diversion, but as time had gone on, it had become something so much more. Carlene had taken to the planning of the shop with a sharp eye and eager attitude and the time they’d spent together had made the two women even closer. Hadley missed her own mother, but it had been so long since she’d lost her she’d believed herself well able to handle all life tossed her way. She still had her father and her sister, Harper, and was grateful for them.
How amazing it had been, then, to realize all she and Zack’s mother shared. And how much she’d missed that gentle guidance of an older female in her life. Carlene had never seen her as the woman who’d “taken her beloved son,” and they’d had a good relationship from the start. But these past few months working on the Trading Post together had bonded them in ways Hadley had never expected.
It had bonded them so much she’d nearly spilled all her marital issues to Carlene more than a few times.
Yet something always held her back.
Loyalty to Zack?
Embarrassment that they’d gotten to this point?
Or some lingering sense that no matter how close she and Carlene were, Zack was still Carlene’s child.
And so each time those words burned the tip of her tongue, Hadley swallowed them back. And focused her attention on fabric swatches, menu items for the restaurant they were building into the entire Trading Post experience, or the inventory they’d carry for the holiday launch and beyond.
With the brownies in the oven, she headed up to her room to change. The warm afternoon they’d had quickly turned cold as the sun set and she needed a few layers to head on out to the south pasture. She’d bring the brownies and drive out to see how she could help. Even when things were good between them, Zack had never liked her in and around the heifers when they had their calves, but it was also getting late and every one of them had put in a hard day. An extra pair of hands was invariably always needed at times like this.
After dressing she whipped up the frosting she’d use for the brownies and put in a call to the ranch office. If they’d managed to get the calf back into one of the various stables they had scattered over the property the call would ring through and she could get an update on what was going on. When it went straight to voicemail, she could only assume they were all still busy down in the south pasture.
Which didn’t bode well for the calf’s condition.
She made quick work of frosting the brownies and snagged keys off a small pegboard on her way out the door. In a matter of minutes she was bumping over one of the paved roads that made up a grid pattern over the 80,000-acre ranch.
They had lights strategically placed around the property, managed off a sustainable electricity grid Zack had installed as one of his first projects after taking over the ranch. The lights ran on a rotating system to conserve energy, but as Hadley got closer to the south pasture she could see they’d all been turned on. The collection of trucks in the distance was further proof the work to save the calf was not only still going on, but was a full-team effort.
Hadley pulled up and out of the way, her father-in-law visible just as she cut her lights. She hopped out, leaving the brownies on the passenger side, and crossed to him. “Hey, Charlie. How’s the calf doing?”
“Hell if I know.” Charlie’s shoulders were still large, the lines of the man he once was clearly visible beneath the thick layer of leather jacket, even as there was increasing room in the width. “Zack’s stomping around in there like he owns the damn place.”
Hadley avoided mentioning that Zack did, in fact, formally own the place now. Instead, she moved in next to Charlie and put a warm, reassuring arm around his back. Always a soft touch, the move had her father-in-law wrapping her in a tight side-armed hug. “He’s a stubborn cuss.” Charlie let out a hard sigh. “And I can hardly argue where he gets it from.”
“Probably not.”
“It’s just that—” He broke off and Hadley just caught the look of remorse and regret in his faded gray eyes before his brows shot down. “I know how to handle a pissed-off heifer protecting her baby.”
“I’ve no doubt that you do.”
“All the young cowboys are in there trying to prove themselves.”
Since it was obvious the old ones still wanted to as well, Hadley stayed put in his warm hold and used his decades of knowledge to gently diffuse the situation. “What’s going on? Carter called Zack about a sick calf but it looks like it’s gotten out of hand pretty quick.”
The question did the trick and in moments she had a full understanding of the concerns over the sick calf, the work being done to move the rest of the herd away for their own safety, and then the subsequent handling that needed to happen to move the animal for medical attention.
“It’s delicate work and fifteen hundred pounds of pissed-off heifer doesn’t make it a damn sight easier.”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Two hundred pounds of pissed-off aging cowboy didn’t make things easier either, but she was pleased to see Charlie’s initial ire fading.
As further proof, her father-in-law pulled himself out of his sulk. “What are you doing out here?”
“I wanted to see how things were going and bring out some sustenance.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “What’d you bring?”
“Brownies. And you get first pick even though I already know you want the corner piece with extra icing.”
She led Charlie over to the passenger side of the truck, pulling out the brownies and suddenly incredibly glad she’d taken the time to make them. They spent a few more minutes in easy conversation, him enjoying his large corner piece as she’d expected and her nibbling on a smaller square of her own. She asked a few more questions about the calf, once again struck by his vast breadth of knowledge.
And then they were wrapping up and she let out a small sigh of relief that Charlie didn’t ask after Carlene or the latest progress of the Trading Post.
Even if that same topic had been the last sour note between her and Zack.
Wiping her fingers off on one of the paper towels she brought along with the brownies, she shot Charlie a bright smile. “I’m glad we got to catch up. We haven’t had a chance to do that in a while.”
“Me too. You’re my favorite daughter-in-law.”
“I’m your only daughter-in-law.”
“Doesn’t change how I feel.” Charlie leaned in close and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. He stepped back and patted his stomach. “And with this sweet treat lifting my mood, I think I’m going to leave that angry mama to the young’uns.”
