ONE

 

 

Work on the Cooper Ranch had been grueling that spring. Winter in northern Arizona had proved exceptionally hard, with record snowfalls and endless days and nights hitting record low temperatures. It almost seemed as if the Cooper family had lost more cattle than had survived and now that spring had reluctantly appeared, dragging her feet well into the middle of it, Reese H. Cooper Jr. was hesitant to believe the chill of Mother Nature wouldn’t shroud the land once more to remind him of her power.

“You need to take a breather, Reese. You’ve been non-stop for weeks now, son,” his dad, Reese Harrington Cooper Sr., told him as they stood out along the downed perimeter fence near the entrance to their land. Reese had started his work early that morning, hoping to have this section repaired by nightfall. Another half-hour and he’d meet his goal . . . for today. Mending fences was an endless task.

“Just taking care of a few things, Dad. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Reese countered, knowing full well his explanation wouldn’t be enough to temper his dad’s warning. He’d been working hard all day, and his soiled clothes reflected his progress. His long-sleeved dark gray T-shirt was now stained and torn beyond keeping, and his jeans were in even worse shape, but still salvageable. His boots were caked with dust and dirt, and his light-gray Western work hat had seen better days. All he wanted now was a shower, some of his mom’s food, and a bed.

The two family sheepdogs, Clint and Duke, sniffed the ground, checking for any critters that might cause trouble, then barked whenever they found something they didn’t like. At the moment, they clearly didn’t like the fancy white pickup that headed their way. Probably yet another rancher stopping by to work a deal after hearing about the cattle auction Reese and his brother were planning to attend. This year the Coopers would be selling most of the feeder calves, and the surrounding ranchers couldn’t seem to wait for the auction. Many of them had already put in their own bids.

“You’re gonna run outta steam before we get to the hard part.”

The ‘hard part’ his dad referred to was moving and gathering up what was left of the herd from the winter pastures and relocating them to the summer pastures, which took about four grueling days to accomplish. The cattle drive itself would take half that time if they could pass through what was once government-leased land.

But last year, all that changed.

“I’ll be up for it. We can’t move them until we’re sure of the weather, and the way it’s been looking, we may still be in for some hard, cold rain that might turn into ice. I’d say we have another week or so before we should even consider a move.”

Reese Jr. was about to further argue his point when that white pickup rolled in closer to the fence, stopping only a couple feet away.

“What the hell does he want?” Reese Sr. spit out as he gazed over at the tall, thin man who stepped out from the pickup, the familiar Circle Starr logo emblazoned on its doors.

Chuck Starr ambled towards them, decked out in the finest cowboy gear his money could afford: chocolate-colored hat, tan Western shirt, pressed jeans, black boots, and a glistening NFR rodeo buckle from bull riding during his more reckless, younger days.

“Fence looks good,” Chuck said as he approached, a snarky smirk tucked under a thick gray mustache, green eyes boring holes into each of the men. “Been wondering when your boys would get ’round to fixin’ it.” He directed his barb at Reese Sr. knowing full well his mere presence caused suspicion.

Reese Jr. could see the irritation building on his dad’s face.

“You got no business here, Chuck Starr,” his dad said. “Now climb back in that fancy rig of yours and drive on back home where you belong.”

His father’s voice sounded shaky and weak, as if he wasn’t pulling in enough air. It scared Reese Jr. just listening to him speak. His dad had been harboring a cold that seemed to want to hang on no matter the strength of the medicine.

“That’s where you’re wrong, old man. I got me some business with your son here.”

Chuck Starr was exactly three years and two months younger than Reese Sr., but Chuck always referred to him as ‘old man’, a term that always ignited his dad’s anger to a fever pitch.

“None of my children would ever do business with the likes of you.” His dad took a couple steps closer, his fists clenched and his jaw set.

Chuck grinned and turned to Reese Jr. “You mean you didn’t tell your dad about our deal?”

Circle Starr Ranch was one of the largest privately-owned properties in the country, encompassing some eight-hundred-thousand acres. And if it weren’t for the stubborn Cooper family, whose land sat smack in the middle of the Starr property, the Circle Starr would be ranked number one in the top five of the largest ranches this side of the Mississippi.

“Last I remember, we don’t have a deal,” Reese Jr. told him, his voice catching in his tight, dry throat.

“Yet. We don’t have a deal yet, but I’m confident we will.”

Reese could see the strain building on his dad’s face, a strain Reese was hoping to avoid. Reese hadn’t told his dad about the latest offer on the Cooper Ranch that Chuck Starr had made, an offer that was almost one and a half times greater than what the ranch was worth. An offer that would more than take care of his parents for the rest of their lives, and give each of the Cooper siblings enough money to start new lives somewhere other than Wild Cross, a town that had been dwindling in significance for the last decade or so.

Now that Chuck Starr had somehow managed to buy the one strip of government-owned land that many of the other ranchers, including the Coopers, had leased and used for either grazing or as a passage for their livestock, moving their cattle had turned into a real challenge. Chuck Starr was charging a fee to use his newly acquired land, and any fee was more than most of the ranchers were willing to pay, especially Reese’s dad, who would sooner sell off his herd than pay Chuck Starr one nickel.

“Ain’t ever gonna do any kind of deal with you, Chuck Starr, so don’t go dirtying up your shiny boots walkin’ on my land trying to scare up something that won’t never be,” Reese Sr. growled.

According to Reese Sr., Chuck Starr and the Cooper family had been rivals ever since Chuck had settled in this valley over twenty years ago. Reese wasn’t too sure how the feud had started, but he knew a big part of it had to do with their individual land holdings. The Cooper family had once owned over two-hundred-thousand acres, which had been whittled away over the past three decades to a mere fifty-two-thousand acres. Though a far cry from the amount of land Circle Starr Enterprises now owned, the Cooper land, at least what was left of it, was some of the richest in all of Arizona. Not only did it hold one of the only natural springs in northern Arizona, but it was home to some of the downright prettiest meadows, prettier than anything in all of the Circle Starr’s thousands of acres. Starr ENT had been trying to get their hands on this last bit of land ever since he could remember, but no matter what the offer, neither Reese Sr., nor Reese Jr., was selling.

Yet.

“Costin’ you money to keep feeding what’s left of your pitiful herd. You need to sell ’em and be done with it. It’s money right out of your empty pockets. Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll add eighty thousand more to my already generous offer to include the whole lot of your livestock, just to ease your stress.”

“Would rather sell them off to the lowest bidder than see you with any of my cattle, much less this ranch. You ain’t ever gettin’ your hands on these acres. Never!” His dad barely got the words out when he started coughing, a rough, dry cough. Doc Snow said it was of little concern, but Doc Snow was eighty years old and could barely move. Reese had wanted to take his dad to a specialist in Flagstaff, but his dad wouldn’t hear of it. He’d been going to Doc Snow for fifty years, and intended to keep right on going to him until one of them was underground . . . which, from the sound of that cough, Reese hoped it wouldn’t be his father.

As Chuck moved closer to the fence, his gaze focused on Reese Jr., but when Clint and Duke bared their teeth and growled, he backed off. “That cough of your dad’s sounds bad. Maybe you should do the man a favor and get him out from under this burden. Be the good son he trained you to be.”

Reese and Chuck stared at each other for a moment while Reese Sr. gained control over his cough, then Chuck walked back to his rig and drove off.

There had always been something about Chuck Starr that Reese could never pin down, a feeling that Reese got whenever he was around him. A sense that for all of Chuck’s bluster, all of his conniving ways, that somewhere down deep he had a soft spot for Reese. It wasn’t anything Reese could point to, no clear outward signs, just something he’d always felt since the first day he’d met him inside what was then Harmony’s Diner in town when Chuck gave up his table in the crowded restaurant for Reese and his mom.

Since then, Reese could never out and out hate the man, no matter what his dad and the rest of the town said about him.

“Don’t listen to him, son,” Reese Sr. said. “I’m fine. Just a little dry cough, is all.”

Reese turned to face his dad, who hadn’t looked well since the last case of bronchitis took him down two months ago. He still hadn’t gotten his weight back, and that worrisome cough wouldn’t let go. “You’re not fine, dad. You need to rest.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” Reese Sr. replied as he mounted Ruby Sunday, his favorite horse, a cream-colored gelding. No matter the distance, he rarely drove a vehicle across his land. A cowboy to his core, he preferred four legs to four wheels any day of the week. “With all that hullabaloo from Chuck Starr, I forgot why I came out here. Your ma sent me to fetch you. Dinner’s heatin’ up and you should come on in before she brings it out to you. And you know she will.”

Reese’s mom, Catherine, stood about five feet tall on a good day, and weighed in right around a hundred pounds with her boots on. She swore when the situation warranted strong words, prayed in church every Sunday, and didn’t take no lip from man nor beast. Reese had seen his mom scare off a three-ton bull with nothing more than a broom and her apron after that bull had meandered into her kitchen to satisfy his curiosity on one of her homemade bumbleberry pies. Reese had never seen a bull run so fast to get back out to his pen as when his mom went after that pie eater.

“No doubt. I’ll be in with plenty of time to clean up. Been thinking all afternoon about that pork loin she’s been roasting.”

“Then we’ll be waitin’ on you, son,” his dad said. “There’s always tomorrow to fix what ain’t been fixed today. ’Sides, one of your brothers could fix that there fence as easily as you can. Seems to me, you could make better use of your time if you made them do more of the work. You’ve always been too easy on those boys, and way too hard on yourself. You need a break every now and again or the work’s gonna break you, son. Equal parts hard work and hard play is always best. You let one or the other take over and you’re in for a world of trouble, and from what I’ve been seein’ lately, you’re headin’ for more trouble than you got a mind for.” Then he rode off, slumping forward in the saddle with Clint and Duke following close behind, barking at potential enemies hidden in the restless grass.

Reese finished up the repairs he’d made to the downed fence he’d tackled earlier that day, closed his toolbox, and headed back to his flatbed truck. Every muscle in his body ached, and his cracked, chapped hands needed a good dose of shea butter. He couldn’t remember when his hands didn’t feel like coarse-grade sandpaper. The vicious winter that had caused an excessive amount of damage to the fences, outbuildings, and the corrals on the ranch was now taking its toll on him. His body needed some repair work, but he knew thoughts like that only made his work more difficult.

His three brothers tried to contribute whenever they could, but for some reason their dad didn’t always see it that way. In his mind, only Reese Jr. worked the ranch on a continuous basis, while the rest of his siblings pitched in when they had the time. Still, Reese knew that each of them had their own duties, whether bookkeeping or caring for the livestock. It was all grueling work, especially when everyone knew holding onto the ranch might be wishful thinking. Reese was the only one among them who felt they still had a fighting chance. Even their sister, Shiloh, who normally embraced optimism, had all but given up.

If Reese hadn’t had to let so many of the ranch hands go, the many repairs might have been made by now. As it was, the Cooper ranch was down to a skeleton crew, and that skeleton was getting more and more brittle with each passing day.

The ranch needed an influx of money to stay afloat, and if they lost any more of their cattle, or if one more thing needed major repairs, Reese didn’t know how they would get through the spring, let alone the entire next year.

But whatever their financial problems, right now Reese just wanted his dad to get well again. Aside from that, nothing else mattered.

 

 

THE LAST TIME Avery Templeton sped up the streets of Wild Cross, Arizona, she was just about to celebrate her tenth birthday, an historic occasion, according to her mom, and one that needed memorable events to mark its passing. Her mom had told her that going from single digits to double digits was noteworthy, and that from now on whenever she celebrated a zero birthday, she should always do something very special to propel herself into the oncoming decade.

When she had turned ten, she marked the day by riding a horse for the very first time. Since that moment, riding had always been part of her life.

When she turned twenty, she made the decision to get her degree in law, a decision she never regretted . . . until now.

Avery needed a strong dose of confidence, a shot of old-fashioned idealism, and enthusiasm about her future. Perhaps even a dash of magical thinking thrown in for good measure. She would be turning thirty in a few weeks, and had no idea how to mark the day. She was looking to find all her answers here in Wild Cross, specifically on the Circle Starr Ranch, while she licked her wounds and recovered from her legal downfall. She had celebrated her tenth birthday on the ranch, and had wanted to celebrate her twentieth there, but circumstances hadn’t allowed it. She’d attended summer school that year, and couldn’t take the time away from her classes.

Now that she was turning thirty, and her life had taken an unexpected turn for the worse, she couldn’t think of a better place to be.

Chuck Starr had always been a positive force for her family, even back during that first visit to his new ranch, when he barely owned a few thousand acres and the ranch house seemed almost unsalvageable. His resolute confidence that he would someday own all the surrounding acres, had seemed impossible to everyone but her dad, who had taken a huge chance on Chuck. He’d lent him a sizable amount of money in those early days, believing in Chuck’s strong acumen for business. Chuck had long since accomplished his initial goal, and he’d also started several companies that now employed over ten thousand employees worldwide. Chuck Starr was a force to be reckoned with and Avery was hoping some of his fierce self-belief might rub off on her.

When she drove up to the spectacular redwood ranch house, she could hardly believe this was the same ramshackle building she and her parents had visited all those years ago. Sure she’d been here a few other times, but the ranch house had always been in a state of expansion or improvement. She’d never seen it completely finished. This ranch house had to be three or four times the original size, and could easily adorn the cover of any number of home magazines. It sat with the perfect view of the lush mountains to one side and a far-off horizon on the other.

Before Avery could exit her car and fully take in the spectacular view, Chuck walked out on the front porch, looking like the rugged cowboy she remembered. They hadn’t seen each other in several years, but she’d know that smiling wizened face anywhere. Chuck and her dad were both in their early sixties, and couldn’t be more opposite in style if they had tried. The difference seemed almost comical. Her dad had worked in the city most of his life with suits and ties as his uniform, a pair of perfectly polished Western boots on his feet, and the occasional Western hat on his head.

Chuck, on the other hand, dressed like a cowboy, and if memory served her right, mostly wore boots that hadn’t seen polish since the leather had been fashioned on a shoemaker’s bench. Today must have been the exception. His boots looked as if they’d been spit-shined.

Still, except for a few more lines on his ruggedly handsome face, a few more flapjacks around his middle, and a little more sag on those hooded, sparkling green eyes that always reminded her of emeralds, he looked pretty much the same.

“Well now, aren’t you a sight for these old sore eyes,” Chuck said as he walked across the wooden porch and down the steps to greet her. His face beamed with delight.

“This place is incredible, Chuck,” Avery told him while gazing back at the endless sky and open grassy land that encircled them. “It’s even more beautiful than I remembered.”

“It’s home. What’s beautiful is you! I think you were only an ornery teen when I saw you last at your daddy’s house in Phoenix. All grown up now.”

“I sure am, and I’m in need of a hug from a dear friend.”

“Come on over here,” Chuck said, his arms outstretched, “and give this old cowboy some lovin’.”

When they hugged she felt as if she’d come home. She knew all she had to do was wrap her self-doubt around him, and everything would surely work itself out in her favor.

“It’s been a long time, Chuck. There’s a lot going on,” she told him once they separated, his warmth still lingering around her.

“Don’t you worry yourself about nothin’. All you have to do is relax and enjoy yourself. You can ride any horse I own, help out if you’re up to it, or take it easy. Up to you, Peanut. No pressure to do anything that doesn’t make you happy. Stay as long as you want. My house is your house.”

No one had called her Peanut in years, and hearing it now, with everything that had happened at her law firm, made her feel loved. She’d always thought of Chuck as a generous and kind uncle, and now more than ever, she could use a strong dose of both.

“I thought you needed some legal advice. That’s why I drove up so quickly.”

Chuck had called her two days ago asking for her help on what he’d termed as a ‘sensitive matter.’ He’d sounded desperate, as if a lot depended on the outcome. He told her he couldn’t discuss it over the phone and that he wanted to see her in person. Avery hadn’t even hesitated. She took care of some pending personal business, packed a suitcase and drove up.

“I do, but that can wait a few days. Right now, all you gotta do is throw off that city dust, and drink in country.”

Avery looked around and took in a deep breath. Her surroundings were positively dazzling, and she couldn’t wait to go for a nice long ride. Even though she lived and worked in Phoenix, up until the last couple of years she’d managed to keep up with her riding skills. At least twice a year she’d drive out to a local dude ranch and saddle up for a long weekend. It always brought her inner peace to feel the wind on her face and experience the freedom of a long ride.

Unfortunately, she’d gotten so overwhelmed with work at her firm that taking time for a ride, or even taking time off for more than a day at a time, had proved to be impossible. She loved her work, but lately she wondered if she possessed the right mindset for some of the more devious office politics that went along with it.

“Thanks, I will, but with everything that’s been going on with me and my firm, I need to know upfront, before I settle into your warm welcome, if I can even help you. I have a lot of restrictions on me about what I can and can’t do until this whole thing settles. So, now that I’m here, I’d like to know what’s going on. Why can’t the law firm you already employ help you?”

Avery had been put on a three-month garden leave or suspension from the firm for supposed ‘inappropriate behavior’ with a client’s spouse, which constituted a conflict of interest, a position the senior partners couldn’t tolerate. She had tried to plead her case, but all anyone could tell her was they would look into it. They had walked her out with only her purse; everything else had to stay right there until the matter was settled.

For the next three months, she had to tread lightly and couldn’t take the chance that anything Chuck wanted played into her employer’s hands and against her.

“Mostly,” Chuck said, “because I don’t want anything to leak out before I’m ready.”

“You know your attorneys can’t leak anything. This has to be for other reasons. What’s going on, Chuck?”

“This goes no further until I say so.”

“Of course.”

“I need to break a promise, a promise I always regretted making.”

“What kind of a promise?”

“A promise I made to the only woman I ever loved.”

Avery immediately presumed Chuck had married a woman who’d disappeared when times were tough and who perhaps recently appeared wanting his money, a typical scenario these days.

“Sounds like you might need a good divorce attorney. I can’t handle the case, Chuck. Not now. Too close to what I’m involved in and I have some restrictions, so--”

“I’m not married. Never have been. It’s something else.”

She was getting impatient, and thinking this trip might have been a mistake.

“Chuck, are you going to tell me or what?”

“It’s time my son knew I’m his father.”

The fact that Chuck had a child didn’t surprise her. Even in his sixties, he was still a handsome man who just happened to be one of the richest men in the country. Combine those two ingredients with his innate charm, and it would be hard to think he didn’t have a child.

Besides all of that, this was exactly the kind of situation she could sink her teeth into. She popped open the trunk of her car.

“Want to help me with my bags? I’ll be staying a while.”

 

 

HERDING COWS WHEN they’re caught up in a canyon or hiding in thick brush could be a challenge for any cowboy, but for the Cooper brothers it always seemed like a walk in the park . . . until a bull decided to get caught up in the mix.

“He’s as ornery as our dad,” Draven Cooper said, as he rode up alongside his older brother, Reese Jr., sitting tall atop his favorite horse, a tobiano paint that Reese had purchased at auction the previous year. “I don’t think he’s going to stay back there in the canyon with the cows much longer.”

They were just now headed out of a particularly rugged patch of land that Reese Jr. knew was always difficult. Some of their cows would wander away from the herd during the winter months and get caught up in a canyon with thick underbrush. Food and water were plentiful, so the cows would keep going deeper into the canyon until late spring, when they’d meander out for the tender young grass near the river. The ones that wandered out were easy to gather, especially with the help of Clint and Duke, but some of the dumber ones stayed behind. And if there was a bull that got caught up in the mix, things could get ugly, fast.

“Our dad or the bull?” Reese asked, teasing his youngest brother. Draven had been away in the military for more years than he’d been actively cowboying, and his dally skills were woefully underdeveloped, meaning he could no sooner anchor his rope around his saddle horn to capture that bull than he could wrestle it down with his bare hands. Hunter and Chase, the middle brothers, had been coddling Draven on this entire drive, but Reese would have none of it. Instead, he found himself teasing Draven every chance he got, probably due to the bit of jealousy he had for Draven’s ability to always fly under the radar whenever it came to ranch work.

“The bull,” Draven said. “Our dad seems to be taking it slow this morning. He says he’s fine, but I’m not too sure he’s telling the truth.”

“I asked him not to come, but in pure dad fashion, he refused to stay home. Said he hasn’t missed a roundup since he started riding, and wasn’t about to miss one now. Plus, ever since Chuck Starr came by the ranch with another offer on our land, Dad can’t seem to settle. The man gets under his skin and Dad can’t scratch him out.”

“What kind of an offer?”

“Almost one and half times what the land’s worth.”

Draven gazed over at Reese Jr. “Seems a little over the top, if you ask me. Like there’s something up that Chuck’s not saying and neither is Dad. Chuck’s a shrewd businessman. Why do you think he’s so desperate to get the rest of our land?”

Reese Jr. shrugged, not having given Chuck’s rise in price much thought until that moment. “Probably knows he can turn it ’round and put a bunch of houses on our land for all those families he’s bringing in to work in his oil business. Plus, you know he’s always envied our pastures.”

Draven seemed skeptical, his forehead furrowing under his tan-colored hat that sat low on his head, thick black hair curling out along the edges, his amber eyes tapering against the morning sun. Maybe it was his military training or simply a sixth sense, but Draven rarely took anything at face value anymore. Most times, Reese Jr. and his brothers would ignore his cynicism and chalk it up to Draven’s inbuilt paranoia. However, this time, Reese Jr. thought there might be something to it.

Draven shook his head a couple times, not really buying Reese’s answer. “Maybe, but I’m thinking there’s something more to it. Either way, you should have insisted Dad stay home.”

Reese chuckled. “Since when has that ever been effective?”

“Mom could do it.”

“Not this time. She tried, I heard her, but Dad wasn’t listening.”

As they approached the river, suddenly, as if on cue, Reese heard loud bellowing and the thunder of heavy hooves as the bull came charging out of the canyon, heading straight for them.

“Look out!” Reese’s brother Chase yelled.

Acting on instinct, the two brothers hightailed it for the river, Reese thinking the bull would be hesitant to follow them in.

Wrong.

The bull came charging in as if the water was of no concern. Within what seemed like a heartbeat, the bull was no more than a few feet behind them, splashing up close, snorting out his anger in loud puffs of threatening bursts. Then the very next moment, silence. Reese and Draven pulled up their horses and turned to see that the bull must have entered the water on an angle and had apparently found a deep hole that caught him completely by surprise. For a moment, the bull was entirely submerged.

“Should we do something?” Draven asked, while holding his lasso in one hand, as if he was going to attempt to throw it around the submerged bull.

“Give it a minute,” Reese told him, hoping the bull would pop up. “And be ready to run again. No telling what he’ll do next.”

Just as Reese finished his sentence, the bull floated to the surface, picked up its head out of the water, and began gasping for air, spitting out water through its nostrils. Reese and Draven stared in amazement as the bull got all turned around, finally found its footing again, and continued to cough and spit out water as it stumbled back to the safety of the cows in the canyon.

“I think you can put your rope away,” Reese told Draven as the two brothers shared a good laugh while watching the mighty bull retreat, still coughing and spitting up river water.

It was at that exact moment when Reese spotted the woman about ten yards away who had obviously been watching the whole thing, now laughing while holding onto the reins of her black horse. She sat easy in the saddle, wore brown chaps, a white shirt, and a light-colored hat covered what had to be the reddest hair Reese had ever seen. Her hair fell down her back in waves of thick curls and caught so much sunlight Reese thought it must be on fire.

“Is she real?” Reese asked his brother, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining the beauty on the black horse.

Draven gained control over his laughter and glanced in the direction of Reese’s chin nod.

“Unless we’re both suffering from heat stroke, I think so. But where’d she come from?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure going to find out.”

And just as Reese was about to take off after the woman, their brother Hunter came riding up on his chestnut-colored workhorse from somewhere along the line of the main herd. He was riding so fast his hat flew off his head, revealing not only sun-bleached hair, but a tortured look on his otherwise normally placid face. Hunter, out of the four brothers, rarely triggered.

A sinking sick feeling jabbed at Reese’s stomach.

“What the . . .?” Draven said.

Reese realized that Hunter was yelling something, but couldn’t make it out until he was almost on them.

“It’s Dad,” Hunter yelled over the thundering sound of hooves hitting the earth. “He’s collapsed.”