Patricia Johns - Her Twins' Cowboy Dad

“It was the right thing to do,” he countered. “These are Josh’s daughters, Mom. They look just like him.”

“So give them something else. The cattle?” She was only getting started, he could tell.

“Mom, it’s done,” Colt said irritably. “And Beau’s dead. There’s no one left to be mad at.”

“So Josh’s widow is there?” his mother clarified.

“Yep. She’s here. Just for a week or two while we sort out the paperwork and I get a loan to buy my cattle back.”

“Your cattle. I like the sound of that. This was a long time coming, son, but I’m glad. I know you’re a bit guilty right now, but trust me on this—you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

He wished he felt as certain about that as his mother did.

“I just wanted to let you know what happened,” he said. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of here, so I’d better let you go.”

“All right. Back to work. I love you, son.”

“Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and heaved a sigh. The family turmoil surrounding this inheritance wasn’t quite so easy for him to dismiss. His mother was Sandra’s sister, and she’d hated Beau. Beau had been the “idiot husband” who made her sister miserable. There hadn’t been a lot of love lost between the two of them. But work called, and Colt didn’t have the luxury of sitting around and beating himself up.

As Colt headed inside the canteen, his eyes took a moment to adjust after the bright sunlight.

“Hey, boss,” a couple of cowboys said as he passed by a table where they were eating some wrapped sandwiches.

“Morning,” he said, continuing on by.

Shawn, the ranch cook, was in the kitchen, wrapping up some hoagies in plastic wrap, and he turned when Colt came in, the door swinging shut behind him.

“You texted?” Colt said.

“Yeah.” Shawn finished wrapping the sandwich in his hand and put it on the pile. “I know the timing isn’t great, what with Mr. Marshall’s passing, but I’ve got to give my notice.”

“What?” Colt froze. “Don’t tell me someone is paying you more—”

“Nah, my brother was in a bad accident in the city, and he’s going to need my help running his drywalling business while he recovers. I said I’d come out, and I have no idea how long that’ll take. Weeks? Months? No clue.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Colt said, his mind spinning ahead to job postings and interviews. “So...how much time will you give me?”

“I’ve got to leave in the morning,” Shawn said.

“That soon!” Colt choked. “I don’t have anyone to fill in. Are you sure you can’t give me a few more days?”

“My brother has a big contract he has to complete, and his leg has been broken in two places. If I don’t come, he’ll have to break his contract and that will be costly. So I’ve got to get out there and lend a hand. I said that I would. I’m sorry, Colt. Ordinarily I’d give more notice. You know that. I’m not the kind of guy to just leave a place hanging.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Colt said with a sigh. “I’ll figure it out. You’ve been loyal and reliable the last three years, and I’m glad to have worked with you. All the best to your brother on his recovery.”

“Thanks.”

“So...what do I need to know to keep this kitchen running?”

“I’m doing some wrapped sandwiches to stick in the fridge to get you through for a bit. I’ve got some frozen lasagnas ready to thaw and stick in the oven, and there’s the burger fixings, too. That’ll get you through a couple of dinners. The sandwiches are for pack lunches, and if you can cover breakfast—” He paused.

There would be meals to be served while Colt put out an ad for a cook. He was on a skeleton crew as it was... That had been Beau’s way—and maybe that was just the way it had to be to keep this place above water. But there was one extra person on the ranch right now, and if she’d agree to pitch in for a day or two in the kitchen, and if Peg would watch the twins in the meantime, this might go a bit smoother. But whatever happened, he couldn’t let Peg anywhere near that kitchen. She meant well, but her cooking was terrible and the men would mutiny.

“That would be great,” Colt said. “I’ll figure out the rest. If you’d be so kind to stash as many sandwiches in the fridge as possible, I’ll get your check cut for your last payout. I appreciate the time you’ve given us, Shawn. If you ever want to come back and work this ranch, the door is open.”

They shook hands and Colt pushed down that rising anxiety as he headed for the door. He was the boss now—his work had only just begun.

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