I’ll take you to court.”
“You don’t have a leg to stand on. This place was in your father’s name.”
“Dad intended for my son to have the Tilted T.”
“Maybe. But, if you really thought he could take over someday, you would have had him living here all his life. A boy raised in the city can’t run a ranch.”
“I’m teaching him.”
“How? By showing him reruns of Gunsmoke? By letting him ride the plastic pony at Wal-Mart?”
“I’ll have you know Lane can ride as well as I could at his age.” And every time he mounted a horse, Kara’s heart broke to think of how his own father’s cheating had robbed her son of the opportunity to grow up on horseback the way she had.
Ty shoved away from the counter and stalked toward her. “What about his father? Maybe he has plans for the boy.”
Kara shivered inwardly at the thought, the secret raring up like a spooked stallion. “Lane has had no contact with his useless excuse for a father since the day he left. He has no say in Lane’s life. Never has, never will.”
Ty whistled softly. “Sounds like a bitter divorce.”
“So bitter that neither Lane nor I carry his father’s name. Lane is mine and mine alone.” Now was as good a time as any to break this bit of news. “We’re both Taylors. And Taylors have always owned this ranch. That’s why I’m not leaving here until you give it back.”
“Well, darlin’,” he drawled, laughter returning to his eyes as he hooked both thumbs in his pockets and tilted back on his heels. “I hope you packed your toothbrush, because you’ve got a long stay ahead of you.”
Chapter Two
Out of long habit Ty dumped the remains of his coffee into the sink and rinsed the cup, then turned it up on the counter to drain and repeated the action with Kara’s cup. Ten years of living out of the back of a camper had taught him that no one else would come along to do his chores. If he made a mess, he cleaned it up. The mess he’d made a long time ago was what had brought him back to Bootlick and the Tilted T. Trouble was, he’d stepped in a bigger mess as soon as he’d hit the place.
Nobody could have been more surprised than he to hold the deed to the ranch where he’d spent his summers during high school and college. He’d come back hoping to buy a place of his own, all right, but he hadn’t thought it would be the Tilted T. Ty knew Pete’s predilection for gambling, but he’d fully expected to return the deed as soon as the old man sobered up. That’s when Pete hit him with the truth. The ranch was sinking in a cesspool of debt, and if Ty didn’t take it, the bank was going to. Ty knew how devastating such an action would be to a man with Pete’s pride. Telling Ty had been hard enough. To have the whole county know he’d failed would bring the old rancher to his knees. To have his daughter know would kill him.
After three days of arguing and studying the ledgers, Ty saw Pete’s reasoning. With the money he’d put aside from his winnings, Ty could settle the debts and put the ranch back on its feet, and it would belong to him lock, stock and barrel. Pete only asked three things in exchange: that he be allowed to stay on as permanent foreman, that the agreement would remain their secret and, the toughest part of all, that Ty would have to take the backlash from Kara without telling her the truth.
Kara. A vision of her furious green eyes stabbed at him. They’d loved each other once, when they were too young and foolish to make good choices, and he felt a tug of regret that they couldn’t even be friends. Fact of the business, he’d felt more than friendship when she’d bumped up against him, smelling like an April morning. Kara had fanned an ember he’d thought long dead, and he’d had to fight the urge to hold her and explain.
He leaned an elbow on the counter and stared into the metal sink. Though he hated looking like a horse thief, Ty’s loyalty to the man who’d taught him everything he knew about ranching and all he needed to know about being a man was too strong to turn back now. To save Pete’s pride he would swallow his own and let Kara think the worst of him. He shook his head in self-mockery. She already did.
The good folk of Bootlick wouldn’t be surprised either that he hadn’t returned the Tilted T like all Pete’s other drinking buddies. They’d always expected the worst from him, too. He knew they’d pointed fingers and gossiped when he’d gone off on the rodeo circuit. “Just like his good-for-nothing daddy,” they’d most likely said. In the back of his mind dwelled the nagging worry that they were right.
For years he’d never stayed in one place long enough to see the seasons change. What if he couldn’t settle down? What if his daddy’s rambling blood was too strong to overcome? One thing for certain, taking over the Tilted T would force him to find out the truth about himself once and for all.
With a sigh he reached for a towel to wipe the sink just as Kara’s jean-clad backside came into view outside the kitchen window. Fists clenched at her sides, she stomped toward the foreman’s trailer like a mad bull. The blond ponytail bobbed through the hole in the back of a hot-pink bill cap, and her white tennis shoes churned the ankle-high grass.
Ty leaned forward to watch, and a grin broke through his somber thoughts. Jiminy Christmas, that woman gave off sparks!
She bounded up the steps and stormed inside the trailer, ready to do battle in the name of family honor. Crazy woman. If only she knew the truth. But she and old Pete had tiptoed around each other’s feelings as long as he could remember. Each thought the other expected perfection, and perfection was damnably hard to live up to.
He wondered what they’d do if he went over there right now, sat down at the table and made them both listen to the truth. He couldn’t of course. Pete had made him promise.
“Just look at this place,” Kara muttered as she eyed the old trailer house with disdain. The once maroon paint had faded to a dull violet. The skirting was pushed in at one side. The front door sagged. Even the lilacs blooming by the steps needed pruning. And to think her father had exchanged his beloved ranch house for this decrepit-looking old trailer. If she hadn’t already been furious, the notion would have made her mad enough to spit nails.
Well, the trailer would have to do for both of them. Until she could figure out a way to get the ranch back from that smirking maniac, she had no choice but to stay on the premises. Who knew what madness Murdock might dream up if left to his own devices? Though she didn’t want to stay anywhere near the black-eyed devil, if she left now, Lane would never own what was rightfully his. And Ty Murdock would steal another piece of her life. She and her dad would do just fine in the trailer until this thing was settled, and Murdock was gone for good. Even at that she’d have to work quickly. Though Lane was in good hands with her roommate Marietta, Kara had no intention of staying away from her son more than a few days. Bringing him to the ranch near Murdock was out of the question.
Stomping up the wooden steps, Kara yanked at the storm door. It stuck. She yanked again, viciously this time, and when the door gave without warning, she found herself backing rapidly down the steps. Somehow she managed to hang on to the door handle and pull herself back onto the porch.
With a beleaguered sigh she opened the inner door and was greeted by the yeasty scent of homemade bread. Sally, whoever she was, had just gone up a notch in Kara’s estimation.
Inside the tiny, cramped trailer, Pete’s familiar old recliner was settled beneath the west window, and Pete was in it. Kara couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Her father looked as content as a cat in a sunny windowsill.
“Well, I see you got over your fit long enough to come eat.” Pete flexed his knees, popping the footrest back into the chair. “Hope you got that out of your system. A man don’t appreciate being took to task in front of another man.”
That insufferable pride. Kara shook her head, the guilt of embarrassing him stronger than her need to be right.
“I’m