Carla Cassidy

The Cowboy's Claim


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the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Besides, might as well get it over with now, let people know he was back in town. By going inside the Cowboy Café, the word would shoot around Grady Gulch with the speed of a bullet.

      As he walked into the restaurant, a little bell tinkled and he swept his black cowboy hat off his head, assuming the owner, Mary Mathis, still had her no-hats-while-eating rule in place.

      Sure enough, as he looked at the wall next to the door, he saw an array of cowboy hats hanging from hooks, and he added his own to the unusual décor.

      It was just late enough that the lunch rush was gone and there were only half a dozen people lingering either at the tables or at the long, polished counter.

      As he made his way across the room to a booth on the other side, he was aware of several gazes following his progress. He slid into the booth and looked at the counter, where a waitress he’d never seen before poured coffee for one of the two men seated there.

      He recognized one of the older men as George Wilton, the town’s resident curmudgeon. George had probably been sitting at the counter since early morning, drinking coffee and complaining about anything and everything that crossed his mind. Some things never changed.

      He smiled as he saw a familiar pretty blonde hurrying toward him. “Nick Benson! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Mary Mathis exclaimed.

      Nick smiled at the woman who had owned the café for the past five years. “Yeah, I figured it was time I get back here and take care of some business. But before heading to the ranch, I thought I’d fill my belly with some of your food and maybe a piece of your famous pie. Sounds like I’m going to need all the strength I can muster,” he said.

      Mary’s smile turned sympathetic. “I’m so sorry for your troubles, Nick. But, there’s no question that Adam needs your help right now. The whole incident with Sam has nearly destroyed him. Rumor has it Adam is spending most of his time at The Corral, drinking himself into oblivion each night. He comes in here every once in a while looking like a broken, very hungover man.”

      “That’s why I decided it was time to come home,” Nick replied. “I could tell by the phone calls I was getting from him that things were definitely reaching a crisis point.” He frowned as he thought of his older brother, who had in the past couple of weeks called him day and night, drunker than a skunk and begging him to come home.

      “He needs you, Nick,” Mary said, and then looked back toward the kitchen area behind the counter. “I’ve got to get back there. I’m teaching Junior how to make an apple pie, and if I’m not there watching his every move he’ll have that pie crust turned into a smiley face. I’ll send a waitress right out to take care of you.”

      “Thanks,” Nick replied. He smiled as he thought of Junior Lempke. The shy, mentally challenged man in his mid-thirties had worked for Mary since she’d bought the place. He’d started as a busboy, with the simple task of clearing tables after diners left. It hadn’t taken long for Mary to recognize that he was capable of doing more under close supervision.

      It was nice to think Mary was now working with Junior to do some of the cooking. Although extremely shy and withdrawn with most people, Junior appeared not to have a mean bone in his big body.

      Nick pulled the menu from where it stood between the salt and pepper shakers and opened it, although he already knew that his stomach was crying out for one of Mary’s famous burgers and a side of her thick-cut, deep-fried onion rings.

      What he didn’t want to think about was the mess that had once been his family. Sam was in jail for attempted murder, Cherry was dead from a car accident and Adam was on an alcoholic downward spiral to disaster. Welcome home, he thought ruefully.

      He sensed somebody moving to his side and looked up. He wasn’t sure who radiated more stunned surprise, him or the woman clad in the black Cowboy Café

      T-shirt and tight jeans, the dark-haired woman he’d spent the past two years trying to forget.

      “Courtney...” Her name fell from his lips in utter shock. “Wha...what are you doing here?”

      The surprise that had momentarily flittered across her pretty features was usurped by a black stare that displayed no emotion whatsoever. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m working. Now, what can I get for you?”

      Her features might not show any emotion, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble of her hands as she clutched an order pad and pencil.

      “But why aren’t you in Evanston?” he asked. Evanston was a small town almost thirty miles away where she had lived with her parents when he’d left town. He’d just assumed by now she’d be married to one of the respectable, financially well-off suitors her parents had paraded before her as potential husband material.

      “I’m not in Evanston because I’m here,” she replied tersely. “Are you ready to order or not?”

      She was lovelier now than she’d been when they’d dated, before he’d blown out of town on a wild wind of grief. Her dark hair was longer and her features had matured from pretty to almost beautiful. She’d always been slender, but now there was a little more curve to her body.

      Why was she waitressing in Grady Gulch when she could be in Evanston, where her father was the mayor and her mother ruled the social scene?

      “You know, I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” he said softly. He’d tried. God, he’d tried to forget her.

      “You want a cup of coffee to go with that plate of crap?”

      He sat back in the booth, as if physically thrown there by both the vitriol in her voice and the hardness that gleamed in her emerald-green eyes. For a long moment he was speechless.

      “Order up or move along,” she said. “I’ve got other customers and things to deal with.”

      He frowned. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and onion rings and a tall glass of milk.”

      “Got it,” she replied and then whirled away to leave the booth as if chased by the very devil himself.

      Nick stared after her and wondered what had happened in the past two years that had brought her to this place in time, working as a waitress thirty miles from her hometown.

      In the two years that he’d been gone, had the world gone crazy? George Wilton looked perfectly content at the counter as he finished his meal. Adam had become a drunken shadow of the man he’d once been, and the woman he’d once loved with all his heart was in a place where she didn’t belong.

      The worst part was he had a dreadful feeling this was just the beginning, that things were going to get crazier before they got better. He’d better prepare himself for more surprises that lie ahead.

      * * *

      Courtney Chambers placed Nick’s order with Rusty the cook and then sank down in a chair in the kitchen area, her legs shaking so hard she might never walk again.

      She should have expected that he’d eventually come back home, especially after Sam and Adam’s recurrent plunge into despair. And she should have expected that if he did come back to Grady Gulch, he’d eventually make his way back into the Cowboy Café.

      But she hadn’t been expecting it to be today, and in the very depths of her heart she’d hoped she’d never see him again. Just looking into the brightness of his blue eyes had brought back all the heartbreak, all the anguish he’d left behind when he’d disappeared from Grady Gulch without a word on the day that his sister had been buried.

      She’d loved him as she’d never loved another man, had given herself to him and only him with the notion that eventually they’d get married and raise a family together. And then he’d disappeared and she’d never heard from him again.

      She straightened in her chair as Mary touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?” Mary looked at her worriedly.

      “I’m fine,” Courtney said