Authors: Christy Hayes
Tags: #fiction, #romance, #womens fiction, #fiction adult romance, #fiction womens, #fiction love, #fiction author, #fiction general, #fiction romance, #fiction novel, #fiction drama, #fiction for women, #fiction adult, #fiction and literature, #fiction ebook, #fiction female, #fiction contemporary womens, #romantic womens fiction, #womens fiction with romantic elements
Dodge the Bullet
By Christy Hayes
Smashwords Edition
Text Copyright©2011 Christy Hayes
All Rights Reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this
book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of
this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written
consent of the author.
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Table of Contents
“Why
the hell would I want to do that?” Dodge stretched his legs in the
club chair of Thornton’s cramped insurance office. He’d taken off
his hat, a fifteen-year-old Stetson coated with dirt and grease,
and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Don’t make me remind you of our agreement.”
Tommy Thornton straightened in his seat behind his desk. “I’ve come
to expect a certain amount of bucking on your part, but this isn’t
one of those circumstances. You can whine from now until doomsday
and I’ll still need you to help me out.”
Andrew Jackson Dodge contemplated the
seriousness of Tommy’s threat. The fact that Tommy had brought up
their “agreement” meant Tommy needed a favor bad.
It’s not that he disliked Tommy or felt
threatened by the man who sat looking at him with a hint of fear in
his eyes. Dodge had nearly four inches on Tommy and the kind of
body that twenty years of hard work in the cattle ranching business
produced. But he'd stepped up to help Dodge back when nobody else
in his hometown of Hailey, Colorado, would have pissed on him to
put out a fire. Tommy had paid a hell of a price for the simple act
of kindness.
“What kind of person owns a cattle ranch and
doesn’t know a damn thing about ranching?” Dodge asked.
Tommy shifted in his chair and took a deep
breath. “You know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t feel you were the
only one I could trust.”
“Quit blowing smoke up my ass and tell me
who’s got your balls in a vice.”
“Senator Burwick called this morning.” Tommy
slumped in his chair. “Apparently that family from Atlanta who
bought the old Storey ranch is moving to town. They’ve been through
the ringer, according to Burwick, and he wants to ensure that the
community welcomes them and provides them with all the assistance
they need.”
“I’m not exactly the Hailey welcoming
committee,” Dodge said through gritted teeth. “And I don’t have
time to hold some guy’s hand while he learns how to lose his ass in
ranching.”
“The guy in question is a woman, and her
husband was a good friend of Burwick’s. The reason I’m asking you
is because I personally guaranteed Burwick she wouldn’t lose her
ass in the ranching business, as you so eloquently put it.”
Dodge stood up and slapped his hat on the
now empty chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A woman? You expect
me to teach a woman--
a Southern city woman
--how to be a
cattle rancher?” He paced the office in two long strides. “And the
only reason you asked me is because you knew I couldn’t say no.
Don’t you dare waste your breath denying it, Thornton.”
“I was reasonably sure you wouldn’t say no.
But,” he continued with a throat clearing cough. “Senator Burwick
could make my life and the lives of everyone in this town a living
hell if I can’t accommodate him on this little request.”
“This may seem like a little request to you,
but I know from personal experience that woman are genetically
incapable of ranching. I grew up with a house full of women and
none of them--not one out of six--could handle the responsibility.
Trying to teach a city woman to run a ranch would be like trying to
teach a bull to play poker.”
“Are you done having a tantrum?”
Dodge kept pacing, pleased to see his work
boots leave a dirty trail on Tommy’s freshly cleaned rug. “No, I’m
not done. If her husband is such a good friend of Burwick’s, then
why isn’t he down here learning to ranch? Why send his wife? Is he
afraid to get a little dirt under his nails?”
“She’s a widow. Her husband was killed in a
plane crash two years ago.” Tommy scowled at the rug. “You know
there’s a boot scrape at the front door.”
Dodge stopped pacing and faced Tommy. “That
ranch is over a thousand acres in the middle of nowhere. It’s not
safe or practical for a woman to live there by herself.”
“She owns the ranch so I'm assuming she’s
prepared to live there. She won’t be alone, though. She’s got two
kids.”
“I sure hope she knows how to shoot a gun,
because if the bears don’t come down to see what’s going on, the
snakes will surely provide one hell of a welcome,” Dodge said.
“It’s my understanding that she’s not
trained in any way. She can’t shoot a gun, run a tractor or rope a
calf.”
“You’re enjoying the hell out of yourself,
aren’t you? What the hell am I supposed to do with some Junior
League, country club-pampered widow?”
Tommy stood up and glared at Dodge. “I don’t
have the foggiest idea what kind of woman she is, but Senator
Burwick wants her taken care of and that’s all I’m trying to do.
She’ll be coming into town Friday and I expect you to drop by for a
friendly visit before the weekend’s out.”
Dodge gathered his hat from the seat he’d
vacated and pointed it at Tommy's chest. “After this we’re even.
You hear me, Thornton? Dead even.” He headed out of the office into
the bright spring day.
Damn. He was knee deep in shit with his own
ranch, running cattle all over the county, and now he had to coddle
some woman from across the country just because she had friends in
high places. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck
prickle, something that happened only when he knew he was in for a
world of trouble. And any situation involving Dodge and a woman
usually ended up causing a whole truck load full of trouble.
###
Sarah Woodward pulled her old Ford pickup to
a stop along Highway 278, otherwise known as the Rifle Range. It
had been almost three years since she'd last been in Colorado and
her memory was failing. Had she already passed the road that led to
her ranch? Every street seemed indistinguishable from the next.
Todd had always driven when they came to
Colorado and she realized now how little attention she'd paid to
directions. Like so many things in her life with Todd, she’d
floated through with the confidence that he’d handle every detail.
And he had, to the point where she’d spent the last two years
trying to figure out how to run her life without him. After finally
tackling their estate back home, she was ready to deal with her
future in Colorado.
Selling the house in Atlanta and moving to
Colorado meant making a clean start, and was something she did as
much for Todd as for the boys they'd made together. He'd loved the
quiet valley they’d stumbled across five years ago and talked
incessantly about putting roots down in the sleepy town of Hailey.
It hadn’t been Sarah’s dream at the time. Everything they’d built
together, pieced together since college, was in Atlanta. But she
felt buried under the memories of him there, floundering in a sea
of happy couples and well-meaning neighbors. Out here, in the wide
open space he'd loved, she thought she could remember him at his
best, full of life and promise. She wouldn’t sell the ranch that
meant so much to him or allow it to sit idle.
Sarah made a U-turn at the Dairy Barn,
thankful her kids weren’t there to pester her, and backtracked
along the Rifle Range. Coming from the opposite direction, the
turn-off was easier to spot and she soon turned onto the property.
As dust swirled around her truck like seagulls chasing a
breadcrumb, she noticed the caretaker’s house had fallen into
disrepair. It had been almost a year since the land had been leased
and the house occupied. Several windows appeared cracked and the
shingled roof needed replacing. Sarah could only imagine the state
of things on the inside. She continued along the drive and bounced
along the bumpy road gnarled with potato rock the valley was famous
for, and came to a stop at the cabin she and Todd had built almost
three years ago along the banks of the Rio Grande River. Stepping
out of the truck felt like stepping back in time. Todd had planned
every detail of the cabin and she could almost hear his voice
calling her over the howling of the wind.
She unlocked the door and walked inside the
garage of the small cabin. The family's four ATV’s and the trailer
they used to haul things, as well as a sundry of fishing rods and
floatation devices, sat neglected in the dusty space. The far wall
contained shelving that held water shoes and work boots, baseball
bats and balls, horseshoes, life vests and all the things necessary
for both fun and minor emergency repair. The valley's spring winds
had coated everything with a heavy layer of dust, the evidence of
which was left on the abandoned vehicles.
She moved beyond the garage to the door to
the interior of the cabin. After punching in the security code, she
stepped inside. The first thing that hit Sarah was the smell. The
scent of wood and sand and newness slapped her in the face. She
left footprints on the grimy mudroom floor and the adjoining
bath.
Sarah climbed the stairs slowly, savoring
and dreading the appearance of the main living quarters. Everything
was just as they'd left it, covered with sheets and waiting for
their return. The three bedrooms off the hallway past the kitchen
lay waiting for happier times and tired vacationers. She moved
through the den to the deck that over looked Todd’s favorite patch
of river. From the deck she could hear water rolling in an endless
stream over the rocks and boulders of the riverbed, the musical
score in the background of her life to come. The sun was trying to
peek through the billowing white clouds that came into the valley
most afternoons from beyond the surrounding mountain peaks. The
brilliance of it took her breath away. She wondered if the people
of the valley ever took the time to appreciate the beauty of their
surroundings.
With a heavy heart, Sarah turned away from
the view and walked back inside the cabin and down the hall toward
her bedroom. The rust-colored walls enveloped her like a warm
blanket and the bed called out to her weary soul. She opened the
deck door and the windows of the room, tried to pour fresh air and
life into the closed off space. She had no more tears to shed, but
the familiar pain in her chest was there, brought on by the sight
of Todd’s things scattered around the room. His desk sat waiting
and the dresser was filled with Todd’s clothes. It hadn’t occurred
to Sarah that the cabin still held so many personal items.
Cleaning out his things from their home in
Atlanta had been the hardest task for Sarah since Todd’s death. The
thought of facing it again, although on a much smaller scale, made
her heart ache. She quickly stepped out of the room and continued
opening windows and removing the sheets from the furniture. She had
a lot to do before the kids came out with her sister and they began
the task of getting on with their new life.
Sarah had one week to get the place ready
for the boys. She wanted the kitchen stocked, the bags unpacked and
the cabin as homey for them as possible. Because the schools in
Colorado ran longer than in Georgia, they would have a chance to
attend their new school and get a feel for what the next year would
be like.