The Cowgirl's Homecoming
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Jeannie Watt
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16
CHAPTER ONE
“DO YOU BELIEVE bad things happen in threes?” Whitney Fox pulled a rose-pink satin bridesmaid dress out of its packing material and shook out the folds as she spoke. If things did happen in threes, she was afraid of what might happen next.
“Me? Oh, come on.” Maddie Kincaid, one of Whit’s best friends and the owner of Spurs and Veils Western Bridal Boutique, made a face as she took the dress from Whit and slipped it onto a hanger for steaming. It was mid-May, and the bridal season was ramping up, one reason that Whit had volunteered to help. The other was that she needed to talk to someone other than her dad and job recruiters.
“Thinking that way sets you up for the next bad thing to happen,” Maddie added as Whit opened another giant cardboard box, this time to reveal pale blue dresses.
“Fine.” Whit started pushing aside thin plastic. “I’m on the cusp of something good. A new beginning.”
An unexpected, scary new beginning. One door had slammed shut and now she had to pry another one open. Which door would it be? And how long would it take to find it? Her stomach tightened at the silent questions.
“That’s better.” Maddie tended to look on the bright side and right now that was exactly what Whit needed. Someone to tell her things would work out, because for the first time since the trauma of losing her mom nine years ago, Whit was floundering.
She needed to come up with Life Plan Number 3, and so far, she had nothing.
Life Plan Number 1, developed during middle school, had been to become independently wealthy, buy the ritzy Hayes Ranch next door to her family ranch, and raise and train champion Quarter Horses there.
That plan had not panned out.
Life Plan Number 2, formulated during high school while her mother had been ill, had been to get a sensible college degree, save money in a sensible manner and work her way into a lucrative, sensible corporate position. Her dream of becoming a horse trainer had been pushed so far aside that she knew it was never going to happen, although she’d never officially broken the news to her friends Kat and Maddie. The three of them had formed their middle school dream pact together, and Kat and Maddie had achieved their dreams. Kat now owned a small farm and Maddie had her bridal shop. Whit did not have her ritzy ranch and horse training facility. Nor did she want it.
The final few years of her mom’s life had taught Whit a hard lesson about ranch economics. Medical bills had sapped them during a time of drought and low cattle prices, and while her dad had been able to pull the ranch out of the red eventually, those nip-and-tuck years had convinced Whit that she needed security. Maybe even some luxury. She needed to become a city girl.
Which she had done. Missoula wasn’t exactly a megacity, but it was more urban than Larkspur, and she’d landed a well-paying job there, managing regulations and permitting for a renewable energy company. She’d worked long hours and some months spent more time on the road than she did in the office, but the rewards had been worth it—job security, stellar benefits and a healthy paycheck.
Then the axe fell.
Corporate buyouts were rarely good for the employees of the purchased company. Whit’s case had been particularly painful—she’d worked her butt off to get the promotion that (a) allowed her to splurge and pay cash for a luxury car—the symbol of her success, and (b) put her in the direct path of the axe. Her job had been meshed with another position that an employee from the purchasing company now filled. The one bright spot was that the yearly lease on her property was close to renewal, thus allowing Whit to move from Missoula back to the home ranch without paying penalties. It was a pretty dim bright spot, but the only one she had.
“You know,” Maddie said, as she began running the steamer over the dress, “you can fill in here until you find something.”
“Probably best if I don’t,” Whit replied before pulling a dress out of the box and removing the protective tissue and plastic. “At least not in the front part of the store.”
Maddie murmured something that sounded a lot like, “You make a good point,” and Whit laughed as she stripped off the last of the tissue from a blue silk slip dress. Maddie was a master at gently directing people to flattering fits and colors. Whit, not so much.
“I’m going to sell my car.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact, but it was hard to keep regret from coloring her voice.
“Sorry.” Maddie knew how much Whit loved her first major splurge.
Whit and the Audi TT had seen three thousand miles together before she’d received the layoff notification. They’d been good miles, too, but Whit needed to recoup as much money as possible to provide herself with a cushion until Life Plan Number 3 came to fruition. She’d sunk her entire promotion bonus plus a chunk of her savings into the car. It hadn’t seemed risky at the time, but now Whit would dearly love to have a do over. She and her coworkers had not seen the buyout coming or she wouldn’t have made her splurge. One day, security. The next day, pink slip.
“After you sell the car, then what?”
“I don’t know.” A difficult admission, but an honest one. Whit felt like next steps should be obvious, as in, get a new job in her field ASAP, but other factors were coming into play. Like a sense of inertia. She felt freaking paralyzed. Why?
Maddie lowered the steamer head and it spit hot water at the floor before she brought it back up to horizontal. “So your entire plan is to sell the car?”
“Sad, huh?” Whit was determined to put on a brave face while she sorted things out. She hated when people worried about her, having had enough of that after her mother died.
“You need time to regroup,” Maddie said sympathetically. “Anyone would, given the circumstances. Maybe you can get something temporary here until you find your next real job.”
Whit searched her brain. “I can’t imagine what that would be, although—” she made a face “—I can play the banjo.”
“Not that well.”
Whit tossed a wad of plastic at Maddie. “I’m a great banjo player.” Her expression sobered. “I’ll figure something out.”
“I know you will. Just please—no ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown.’”
“But it is foggy in here.” Whit, thankful for the change of subject, fanned the moist air, wondering why the old hardwood floorboards weren’t warped, considering the amount of steaming that went on over the years as garments were unpacked and hung.
Maddie turned the dress to tackle the back while Whit unpacked the rest of the shipment. After pulling the last gown out of the box, she smoothed a hand over her hair. The long blond strands that usually behaved nicely were starting to frizz.
“Have you ever watched The Fog?” Maddie shot her a frowning look and Whit shrugged. “Just wondering if anything sinister ever appeared out of the swirling mist back here.”
“Nothing sinister, unless you count my former business partner.” Who’d secretly hooked up with Maddie’s now-ex-fiancé. “Steam is great for the skin.”
“So that’s your secret,” Whitney murmured as she retrieved the plastic wad and tossed it into the trash. Maddie did have beautiful skin.
“Lots of steam and the love of a cranky cowboy.”
Whit grinned. “I don’t find Sean cranky.”
“He tries, but yeah, he’s missing the mark more and more.” Maddie’s lips curved into a gentle smile that made Whit want to smile in return. After breaking up with her cheating fiancé, Maddie had found a guy who truly loved her for who she was, and vice versa. Heartwarming, but not what Whit was looking for.
What are you looking for?
Not a man. She was doing fine on her own, thank you very much. But other than that parameter, she felt uncharacteristically lost and she hated it.
Whit busied herself gathering packing materials and stuffing them into the box for recycling while Maddie emptied the steamer tank. She returned to the room and stood a few feet away from the rack, admiring the shiny, smooth rose-pink satin dresses hanging next to pale blue silk gowns. A few bars of the wedding march played in the main part of the shop, indicating that a customer had entered the store, and a familiar voice called, “Where are you guys?”
“Back here,” Maddie replied.
A few seconds later Kat, the third member of their decades-long friendship triad, came into the room carrying a box that made suspicious scratching noises.
“Kittens,” she said. “They were giving them away at the grocery store, so I took them all.”
“As one does,” Maddie said.
“I had to. They’re very young, and I’m of the opinion that you can’t have enough kitties.” Kat set down the box and opened the lid. Maddie and Whit both made an automatic “aw” sound as the three little black-and-white kitties inched their way along the cardboard on their bellies.
“I think they need to be bottle-fed for a while,” Kat said. “I guess the mama just disappeared.”
“I’d take one off your hands, but I don’t know what my situation looks like yet,” Whit said as Maddie reached in the box to pull out a kitten. Whit did the same, tucking the squirming baby against the warmth of her neck.
“But you have a plan, right?” Kat replied, stroking her kitten’s head with a single finger as it lay in her palm.
Whit’s stomach tightened again, but thankfully Kat’s phone chimed before Whit had to confess that she had no plan at all. “Oops,” Kat said while reading the screen. “Troy is ahead of schedule and waiting in the back lot, so I guess I’d better collect my kitties and go.”
“What kitties?” Maddie asked innocently, pulling the collar of her blouse over the kitty she held.
“Livia’s kitties,” Kat replied, Livia being the one-year-old daughter of Troy, Kat’s fiancé.
“I will not deprive her,” Maddie said with a sigh. She set the kitten back in the box alongside the other two and Kat gently closed the lid.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said as she lifted the box, holding it in front of her with both hands. “Good luck with the job hunt,” she said to Whit. “Keep me posted.”
At a tick after six o’clock, Whit and Maddie stepped out of the shop and into the crisp late-spring air. It appeared that everyone from shop employees to the patrons of the nearby bar whose happy hour had just ended were headed to their vehicles at the same time. Doors slammed; engines started.
Whit led the way across the lot to her car. She’d parked the luxurious dark gray vehicle in a far corner to protect it from parking lot dings and dents. She felt a little pang as she beeped the lock open, then gestured to Maddie to climb inside the plush interior.
“It’s beautiful,” Maddie said, running her hand over the leather console that separated the bucket seats.
“Nicest vehicle I ever owned.” Whit buckled in, then pressed the start button and the engine turned over, purring so gently that it was hard to tell that it was running. Soon she’d be driving the Corolla again, a car so old that she’d parked it on the ranch rather than trade it in for the negligible amount it would have brought.
Thank goodness she had.
A line of vehicles had formed at the parking lot exit and Whit nosed her car in behind a Corolla similar to the one she’d be driving in the future, moving forward a few feet at a time as the vehicles ahead of her waited for breaks in the traffic. When her turn came, a long open stretch appeared and she swung out into her lane, glad to have made a quick escape. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw a big truck follow her out, its grill just a little too close for comfort.
“Look out!” Maddie cried, and Whit jammed on the brakes, barely missing the dog that had darted in front of her. Less than a second later a crash from the rear snapped her head forward and then back, rattling her brain, but thankfully not deploying the airbag.
She shot a dazed look at Maddie, and then they twisted in their seats to stare out the back window.
“Son of a—” Whit wrenched her door open and stepped onto the pavement. She ignored the passersby approaching from various directions as she strode to the rear of her car. Her bumper and one taillight had been smashed, and there was a big crease in the trunk.
“No, no, no,” she muttered, taking in the damage and trying to calculate the impact this would have on her already limited plan. Of course the truck had a deer guard on the front, and the damage to it was negligible.
“Why did you stop so fast?” a deep voice growled from behind her.
She turned to find a tall guy in a cowboy hat staring at her with an outraged look on his face. She was having none of it. She drew in a breath and fired back.
“What were you thinking riding my bumper like that?” The words were barely out of her mouth when recognition struck.
Tanner Hayes. It’d been years since she’d seen the man, but there was no mistaking those chiseled features when he tipped his hat back. He, in turn, gave her the once-over, looking like he couldn’t quite place her.
“Whitney Fox,” she said drily. “Your neighbor.”
“I know who you are.”
Maddie cleared her throat and they both turned to look at her. “I’ll see if anyone saw anything.” She spoke to Whit, pointedly ignoring Tanner.
“Please do,” Whit said in a grim voice. She turned back to the man, thinking that her one saving grace was that the Hayes family was swimming in money, so he should have no problem handling the repairs.
But repairs took time and would bring down the resale value of her car. The only concrete part of her plan had just taken a massive blow.
“This is your fault.” They needed to get that much straight here and now. Whit gestured at the damage. “You hit me.”
“You stopped dead in the middle of a turn.” His voice was low and not one bit apologetic.
“Because I didn’t want to hurt a dog.”
“I didn’t see a dog,” Tanner said stubbornly.
“Well, a dog ran out in the road in front of me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Whit replied. “You rear-ended me. The law is on my side.”
“Not necessarily.”
Whit propped her hands on her hips, noting that a crowd was edging in. Fine. Maybe public shame would do some good.
“Right. Because if you’re the guy with the money, then the law tends to be on your side.”
“Now wait a minute.”
“All I’m saying—” she poked a finger at his chest “—is that you’re not buying your way out of this like your dad bought his way out of everything.”
His expression went stony, which meant that she’d struck a nerve. Good. She wanted to strike more than a nerve but had to make do with what was legal and available.
“Don’t bring my father into this.”
Whit felt a small wave of shame. Tanner’s father had recently passed away, but the man had never been close to anyone, not even his two sons, who’d left home before Whit was out of high school. But, yeah, she shouldn’t have brought his dead father into this.
She lifted her chin, but didn’t mutter the apology that teetered on her lips. Something told her not to and she listened. “All I’m saying is that, often, in cases like this, money talks.”
Her head came up as the deputy sheriff’s vehicle turned onto the street and parked opposite. Bill Monroe got out of the cruiser and crossed the street. He looked over the damage as he approached, giving a low whistle, then he tilted his hat back as he recognized Tanner.
“Hey, Tanner. It’s been some time. Some homecoming.”
“It was his fault,” Whit said stonily.
“That remains to be seen,” Tanner said.
The deputy propped his hands on his hips. “That’s for me to decide.”
Whit rolled her eyes. Bill and Tanner were old high school buddies, but she knew she was in the right here. “I stopped to avoid a dog. He—” she pointed at Tanner “—was following too closely and smacked me from the rear, and I want that in your report.”
Maddie appeared out of nowhere to touch her arm and Whit gave her friend a quick look. Fine. She would allow law enforcement to do their job.
She stepped back and watched as Bill commenced taking measurements and speaking to people who’d witnessed the accident. She gritted her teeth as Bill noted various conflicting eyewitness accounts in his book.
Yes, there had been a dog...
No, Tanner hadn’t been following too closely. She’d stopped too abruptly...
Yes, he was too close. She’d done the only thing she could...
They were both at fault...
Neither was at fault...
And all the while this was going on, Tanner stood silently watching the proceedings like the heir to a throne would do—the throne being a sprawling ranch in this case—confident that things would work out in his favor.
And they probably would.
Once Bill had gathered his information and allowed them to move their vehicles, Tanner jerked his head to the side of the street, as if he expected Whit to follow. She frowned at him, and he exhaled and decided to speak where he stood.
“This was unfortunate, but insurance will cover it, and your car will be as good as new—regardless of whose fault it is.”
“No,” she said grimly. “It won’t be as good as new. Its value has now decreased. Some of us don’t have the ability to buy a new car on a whim.”
“And you think I do?”
Whit sensed Maddie moving beside her, as if trying to signal to her that it was time to drop the matter and leave. Normally, Whit would have done that. She would have taken the hit in stride and moved on. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Her vehicle was now worth less than it had been a few minutes ago, through no fault of her own. And the Hayes family had always rubbed her—and most of the community—the wrong way. But money talked and the townspeople listened, regardless of their feelings.
Tanner was watching her, waiting for a reply to his question, which Whit had no intention of giving. It appeared that he had no intention of speaking, either. In the end, Whit was the first to blink.
“I think that when you grow up wanting for nothing, it twists your sense of reality,” she said tightly. His mouth went even flatter than it had been before. The crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk was still good-sized, probably because most were patrons from the nearby pub who’d come out to see what the ruckus was about.
And who didn’t want to watch a fiery verbal face-off between two people who’d just been involved in a collision?
Maddie gave Whit’s arm a yank, and as she gave in and allowed her friend to steer her to the car, she was surprised to find herself guided to the passenger side.
“I’m driving,” Maddie said in a no-nonsense voice. “You’ve had a shock. You can take over after you drop me at my place.”
“Fine,” Whit muttered, opening the door and getting in without a backward glance—although that part was hard.
Maddie adjusted the mirror and then pulled away before Tanner did. Whit sat back in the ridiculously comfortable seat. “Guess it’ll be a minute before I sell my car.”
“But you will.”
Spoken like the positive-thinking soul her friend was.
“Whose fault was it, Maddie?” Bill had taken witness statements, but so had Maddie in an informal way.
“He was too close behind, but you stopped abruptly. He probably would have hit you even if he’d been farther behind.” Maddie stopped at the light. “It was the dog’s fault, actually. And whoever allowed him to run.”
Whit leaned her head against the window. Her friend was right. It was done, and now it was a matter of mitigating damages, not flinging blame. The blame-flinging had made her feel good in the moment, but it wasn’t going to fix her car. It was annoying that she was going to struggle after this, and Tanner Hayes would throw money at the problem and it would, no doubt, go away.
