C.J. Carmichael - Her Cowboy Dilemma

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah, but better to contain this thing now before it spreads and becomes a bigger problem.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or were you not planning to stay in Coffee Creek that long?”

“That depends on whether I get a job offer or not.”

“You excited about spending your life as a pencil pusher in a city high-rise?”

“Why not?” she countered, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her gaze. “You think swabbing mucus from a sick horse’s nostril is so much better?”

“Actually, I do.” He reached for his hat, settling it on his head, before giving her a final, parting nod. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand why. Though the little girl who grew up on this ranch would get it.”

* * *

“T AKE A LOOK at these paint chips, sweetie,” Olive said. “Which one do you like better with these fabric samples for your new duvet cover?”

Cassidy had just hauled her suitcase into her old bedroom, halting when she saw her mother sitting amid piles of fabric swatches and paint chips spread over the blue-and-white quilt she’d had as long as she could remember.

The handmade quilt was an heirloom from her grandmother Lambert. Cassidy had always loved it, though admittedly the fabric was now threadbare on the edges.

“What’s this about, Mother?” She was tired after the long drive and the stressful encounter with Farley. Bad enough that they had strangles on the ranch and that she was in charge of containing it. If only her mother could have called some other vet rather than Farley.

“We haven’t decorated your room since you were a little girl. Don’t you think it’s time to spruce it up a little? I thought we’d paint and order new curtains and bedding. That desk in the corner is too small for you now. What do you say about replacing it with an armoire? A beautiful antique would look lovely in that corner. I saw one in Lewistown the other day that would be perfect.”

Since the bed was unavailable, Cassidy hoisted her heavy suitcase up on the desk that her mother had just pointed out. “What’s the point in fixing up the room when I’m only here for a few weeks?”

“That’s if you get the job,” Olive reminded her. “It’s always good to have a backup plan and you know you always have a home and a job here with us.”

“Mom, I’ve told you that isn’t what I want to do with my life. If I don’t end up getting this job, I’ll apply for another.”

“So you really mean to follow in B.J.’s footsteps, do you?” Her mother did nothing to hide her disappointment.

B.J. had been traveling the rodeo circuit for almost as long as Cassidy could remember. He’d left home at eighteen and though he made the occasional pit stop at home, he never stayed long.

“I’m not planning to start competing in rodeos, Mom.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. This land has been in our family for five generations. Your father and I planned things so we have room enough and work enough for all of you.”

Then why didn’t Dad build me one of those cottages he had made for the boys?

Cassidy didn’t voice the question, even though it was often on her mind. The truth was, she’d never wanted to live so close to her mother. Nevertheless, it did rankle that she’d never even been offered what had been so freely given to her brothers.

“Mom, you just finished helping me get five years of higher education. Surely you must want me to put it to good use.”

“You could take over the bookkeeping and taxes here at our ranch. Handle our dealings with the bank and manage our investments.”

And be under the thumb of her mother and brothers for the rest of her life? “Mom, I have to make my own way. Do my own thing.”

“You think you’ll be happy living in Billings for the rest of your life?”

“It’s not that far. I’ll visit. Like I did when I was going to school in Bozeman.”

Her mom pressed a hand to her forehead. “That is not the right plan for you. I promise you, Cassie, you’ll be making a big mistake if you walk away from your heritage.”

Stay calm. Stay firm. That was Cassidy’s new mantra and she was determined to stick to it. “It’s my life, Mom. And my decision.”

Olive sighed. She turned her gaze to the view out the window, then back to Cassidy. “Let’s drop it for now. I don’t want a big argument to spoil your first day home.”

Right. ’Cause it had been such a great day so far.

Cassidy took a deep breath and reminded herself that she’d vowed to try harder with her mother. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen, brew a pot of tea and talk about something else?”

“In a minute.” Olive picked up two paint squares. “I promised Abby at the hardware store I’d phone and place my order this afternoon. Which do you prefer? The sage-green or the buttercream?”

* * *

D AN F ARLEY DROVE away from Coffee Creek Ranch feeling disappointed, unsettled...frustrated. He wasn’t usually a man given to complicated emotions. What was it about Cassidy Lambert? After all these years she ought to be nothing to him.

But it didn’t help that she’d shown such concern for the sick horse. He’d always been a sucker for her soft heart.

And it helped even less that she still filled out her jeans in all the right places. Add in that beautiful blond hair and those disarming green eyes—hell, any man could be excused for losing his head over a girl like Cassidy.

But he didn’t want to do it twice.

To distract himself, he decided to check in with Liz.

“Just finished at the Lamberts’ and I’m on my way to Silver Creek.”

“That took a while.”

Liz was probably worried he wouldn’t make the date with Amber. Why did all women assume a man wasn’t happy unless he was suitably married?

“Yeah. I’ve put the place under quarantine. We’ll have to run the tests, but I’m pretty sure about the result.”

“Bad luck for them,” Liz allowed. “Good luck at Silver Creek. Hopefully things will go better there.”

* * *

M ADDIE T URNER WAS waiting for him when he arrived, a stocky woman with wiry gray hair and plain features—quite the contrast to her fine-featured, well-coiffed sister, Olive. The two border collies flanking her were younger versions of Cassidy’s dog, Sky. The dogs looked anxious, just like their owner.

Maddie was wearing faded overalls and a threadbare shirt—both smeared with blood. Her face was damp and she appeared exhausted. He knew from experience that helping a cow with a difficult delivery was hard, physical labor.

“You okay?”

“Been better. Thanks for getting here so fast,” she said, as he grabbed his gear out of the truck, then slipped on a pair of overalls.

“I was next door at Coffee Creek.”

She didn’t blink an eye at the mention of her sister’s place. “Lucky you were so close. I don’t think we have much time.”

She led the way to the barn, where he could hear the sounds of distress from the mother-to-be. They found the poor thing on the stall floor, with terror in her wide brown eyes.

She looked on the small side. Young. “This her first calf?”

Maddie nodded.

A quick exam confirmed that the calf was positioned backward and upside down. A C-section was their only hope. “Anyone else around?” he asked hopefully.

“Nope.”

“No hired help?”

She avoided eye contact. “I’ve had to cut back lately.”

“Too bad. We could use an extra set of hands here.” Or two, or four. He started setting out his equipment, going through the steps in his head. Since he didn’t have an assistant, he needed to have everything at the ready before he prepped the cow for the incision.

“I can secure her head,” Maddie offered.