Marie Ferrarella

The Cowboy and the Lady


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from the state of Indiana. Indianapolis to be precise. And unless the Dallas airport car rental agency was dealing in really beaten-up-looking vehicles these days, his latest boarder had been driven down to Forever rather than coming in by airplane.

      Interesting, Jackson thought.

      * * *

      RESTLESS, IMPATIENT AND WORRIED, Ryan Winter shifted in his seat for the umpteenth time even though he had decided more than several hundred miles ago that there was no such thing as a comfortable position in his sister’s beat-up, secondhand sedan.

      Ryan glared out the window, sulking.

      He’d always been able to get his sister to come around to his way of thinking. But the other morning, when she had told him—not asked, but told, something he was still angry about—that they were going to a place called Forever, Texas, he’d thought she was kidding. It wasn’t until she’d marched into his room and thrown some of his clothes into a suitcase, then grabbed him by the arm and all but thrown him into the car after the suitcase, that he realized she was serious.

      Dead serious.

      He’d tried to reason with her, then he threatened, cajoled and pleaded, going through the entire gamut of ordinarily successful avenues of getting her to change her mind. But every attempt had failed. One by one, his sister had tossed them all by the wayside. She wasn’t going to let him talk or con his way out of going to this stupid, smelly horse place, and he was furious.

      He’d had all those miles to sufficiently work himself up.

      He thought he knew why this was happening. Because he was the reason why her stick-in-the-mud husband had left. But just because her life was falling apart was no reason for her to take it out on him.

      Making one last-ditch attempt to get her to turn the car around, Ryan said, “Look, I’m sorry about your marriage breaking up, but the way I see it, I did you a favor. John was a loser, and you’re a hell of a lot better off without him. If you’re dumping me here at this stupid prison ranch just to get even, it’s not going to work because I swear I’m taking off the first chance I get,” he added for good measure, thinking that would really get to his sister. Debi was very big on family and he was officially all she had. He felt confident that the threat of losing him would be enough to get his sister to back off about this prison ranch and give him the space he needed. “And if I do leave, you’ll never find me.”

      * * *

      DEBI’S HANDS TIGHTENED on the steering wheel. It had been a long drive from Indianapolis. She was hot, she was tired and she’d gotten lost half a dozen times during the trip down to this ranch. She fervently hoped this place dealt in miracles on a regular basis because she really, really needed one.

      Badly.

      Debi had a feeling that nothing short of a miracle was going to save her brother. And maybe even that wasn’t enough.

      She spared her brother a quick glance. He always had a habit of trying to turn things around, of putting her on the defensive. Well, not this time. She couldn’t allow it.

      “This isn’t about my marriage, or lack thereof, this is about you. You’re broken, Ryan, and I don’t know how to fix you.” Even saying it pained her, but it was the truth. Somehow, Ryan had lost his way and she had lost the ability to connect with him. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she needed help in both departments.

      “Drop-kicking me here to this dude ranch that’s built out of horse manure sure as hell isn’t going to do it, Debs.”

      She sincerely hoped that wasn’t a prophecy. “I’ve tried everything else with you and it hasn’t worked. Maybe the people who run this ranch will have better luck.”

      Even as she said it, she mentally crossed her fingers. She’d been at her wits’ end and more than desperate the day after she had bailed her brother out of jail. True to his word, John had been gone when she came home with Ryan. The following morning, she’d broken down in the hospital’s fifth-floor break room. Trying to comfort her, Sheila, another nurse on the floor, told her about The Healing Ranch.

      It turned out that Sheila’s cousin had a son who was well on his way to a long rap sheet and possibly life in prison. She had sent him to The Healing Ranch in a last-ditch attempt to save him from himself. According to Sheila, it had worked. Three months later, she’d gotten back the decent kid she’d always known was in there.

      Debi had called the number Sheila had given her that very day. She’d had to leave a message on the answering machine, which didn’t fill her with much confidence, but that all changed when she received a call back that evening from the man who ran the place. She remembered thinking that Jackson White Eagle had a nice, calming voice. Just talking to him had made her feel that maybe it wasn’t really hopeless after all.

      He hadn’t made her any lofty promises, he’d just said that he would see what could be done and invited her to come down with her brother. Debi hadn’t wanted a tour, she’d wanted to sign Ryan up right then and there, afraid that if this Jackson person had a chance to interact with her brother first, he couldn’t accept him into the program.

      “You’re sure you don’t want to see the ranch and think about it first?” he had asked her.

      Her online research had told her that the man who ran the ranch had a perfect track record so far. That was definitely good enough for her—especially since she had nowhere else to turn.

      “I’m sure,” she had replied.

      She’d taken a leave of absence from the hospital, gotten together what there was in her meager savings account, transferring it into her checking account, and driven down here with Ryan. John’s divorce papers were tucked into her purse. She had no one to lean on but herself.

      Ryan had put up a huge fuss about being taken away from his friends. He’d also threatened to run away the first chance he got.

      He repeated the threat every hour on the hour in case she hadn’t heard him the first half a dozen times.

      Debi told herself that Ryan only threatened to run away because he wanted to frighten her into turning around and driving back to Indianapolis. Maybe a year ago, she might have, but what stopped her now was that she knew if she did, for all intents and purposes she would have been signing her brother’s epitaph because as sure as day followed night, Ryan was on a path headed straight for destruction.

      “Well, the clowns who run this place aren’t going to get the opportunity to brainwash me because I’m taking off first chance I get. You know I will,” he threatened again.

      Debi sighed as she stared at the road before her. She wasn’t all that sure the threats were empty ones. Ryan could very well mean what he said. That was why she wasn’t going back home once she had finished registering him and got him settled in. If Ryan did take off, she wanted to be right here where she could go after him and bring him back. He was her brother and at fifteen, obviously still a minor. She was responsible for him, and she would have felt that way even if he were eighteen.

      She prayed that it wouldn’t come to that, but considering what she had already gone through with Ryan, she wasn’t counting on it being easy.

      “I mean it. I’m gone. First chance I get,” Ryan repeated with emphasis.

      “Yes, I heard you,” Debi replied stoically. She also heard the fear in his voice. God, let these people here reach him, she prayed. She saw the cluster of people in and around the corral. “Okay, we’re here. For my sake, try not to insult the man in the first five minutes.”

      Ryan’s laugh had a nasty sound to it, and she knew this was not going to go well. “Hey, I don’t want to spoil the man, now, do I?”

      She didn’t bother answering her brother. Anger and despair had grabbed equal parts of her. Anger that he had allowed himself to become this destructive, negative being and despair because she couldn’t snap him out of it and had been forced to turn to strangers for help. She’d thought she