Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel (18 page)

Marlee sniffed and tried to smile through her tears. She’d spent most of her life trying to prove something. What? That she could be perfect? That she would never fail?

Well, Fern was right about one thing. There was nothing like a cattle drive and a serious dark-eyed cowboy to show her all the places she wasn’t perfect.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Marlee settled into her seat.

Outside, Fern, Meg, Annie and Crazy Hoss had gathered.

Fern waved a pink handkerchief. Annie dabbed at her eyes with her apron.

Crazy Hoss blinked rapidly and even his whiskers drooped mournfully. He’d probably need to borrow a corner of Annie’s apron soon.

Marlee pressed her hand to her fluttering stomach.

She could still get off.

She could at least check to see if the Rockspur ranch really was hiring a cook soon.

She shrugged off the knife roll, and placed it carefully in her lap, running her fingers absently over the carved leather. It was hard to imagine herself begging strangers for a job that wasn’t even posted yet.

But before she could decide, the train jerked and whistled and started its slow pull away from the platform.

Well, then. It was decided. The train was in motion now, and it was best she take her lumps and move on.

But that was hard to convince herself when she looked back at Crazy Hoss, Fern, Meg and Annie as the train picked up speed.

Like Jett, they grew smaller and smaller, until they vanished in her past.

Marlee sighed and sat back in her seat thinking about Fern’s words.

Pride is a trap, honey. It gets you stuck seeing things only one way.

How else could she see this, besides the glaringly obvious fact of her own failures?

Well, if nothing else, she had gotten the experience of riding on an authentic old train. She’d met some wonderful people. She’d found out what she was really made of when it came to bravery. She’d learned some mean Dutch oven cooking skills. And she’d gotten to go on a real live, honest-to-goodness cattle drive. Amazing experiences most chefs would never have.

The only cost to her was time.

And a broken heart.

Marlee’s heartbeat picked up as she pulled out the envelope Jett had given her that morning. She hadn’t asked him to write a letter of recommendation. As she unfolded the letter, her fingers trembled.

It was typed. Professional and crisp, reflecting their relationship as boss and employee.

She almost closed the letter back up at the sight of his signature. It was bold and efficient. Masculine.

Instead, she clenched her teeth and began to read.

Instantly, her vision clouded over with tears as she read. Three paragraphs of glowing words. And then a list of “Reasons Why You Should Hire Marlee Donovan.”

She sniffed and wiped at the edge of her eye as she finished reading. This letter proved he hadn’t fired her because she was incompetent. He’d listed a lot of good reasons to hire her. That did dull the ache a little. But he still hadn’t hired her.

“Tickets, please.”

Marlee smiled up at Lester, dressed in his conductor’s costume. She loved this old tourist train with its authentic details.

“Back so soon?” Lester slowed when he came to her seat.

Marlee straightened her shoulders. “Yes,” she said. “I guess the job wasn’t for me.” She held out her ticket.

“Well, now…” He peered at her through mournful eyes as he punched her ticket. “That surprises me. I was sure you’d love it out here.”

“I do.” She sighed.

“Just too much dust, then, I guess,” he said and handed her ticket back.

“No. A little dust never hurt anyone.”

“Too dry? Got yer allergies on overdrive?” He peered at her even more closely.

“No,” Marlee said. She looked down at her knife case and traced scrolls and roses.

Her heart had been on overdrive, maybe, but her heart and soul and body had never felt better than out under the sun with the wind in her hair and the Killdeer calls and the smell of pine, horses, sagebrush and the rich Camas Prairie.

Lester folded his arms and leaned against the seat across the aisle. “Yer homesick for family?”

“No,” Marlee murmured. But it wasn’t technically true. She was homesick for family already…but she was homesick for her Looking Glass Lake family, not her real family.

And she was homesick for Jett.

“Well, don’t that beat all.” He chuckled. “I’m plumb out of reasons.”

Marlee looked up. She blinked. “Plumb out of reasons?” She heard herself repeat.

“Except for maybe a broken heart,” the old conductor said. He shook his head and patted her on the shoulder before he moved on.

Marlee stared at the back of the seat cushion in front of her.

Outside, the country she’d fallen in love with unfurled next to the window, but she barely noticed.

She’d just read Jett’s reasons why she’d be a good hiring decision. She’d just thought about many of her own reasons why she wanted to stay in Looking Glass Lake. But how many reasons did she have for leaving?

Only one.

Pride.

Pride kept her stuck. Kept her from turning around, exactly like Fern had said.

“Plumb out of reasons,” she whispered, and her heart hammered louder and louder in her chest. Pride wasn’t a good enough reason for anything in her life. Not anymore.

Because she knew Crazy Hoss was right. Jett was the most loyal kind of man. Loyal in love, yes. But loyal in all ways.

She’d been too proud to accept the best part about Jett.

He’d told her he couldn’t hire her because the ranch needed a good cowhand and a good camp cook rolled into one. And she’d put her own pride above his loyalty to the ranch.

She’d been a blind fool.

But she didn’t have to keep it up.

Asking about the job at the Rockspur ranch wouldn’t mean she was a failure. It would mean Marlee Donovan wasn’t a quitter. And pride or no pride, that was still true.

There was another stop in two hours, and as long as she dumped her pride, she’d be free to get off the train and find some other way back to Looking Glass Lake.

Because once she got the hay out of her own brain, life would get a whole lot easier.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Jett had just thrown his saddle over Calamity’s back when Crazy Hoss rumbled into the driveway, pulling a horse trailer behind his rig.

“Cattle drive is over, old-timer,” Jett said when Crazy Hoss ambled over.

“Ain’t that a shame,” Crazy Hoss declared. He watched Jett cinch the saddle. “That was some kind of excitement.”

Jett grunted. Excitement wasn’t what he was feeling right now.

What he felt tasted metallic and raw, like a dry thunderstorm that refused to roll through in the dead of summer. That’s what he’d been feeling ever since he’d handed Marlee the letter of recommendation he’d written, and she’d stomped out of his life.

He’d tried to tell her to stay. But he didn’t know how. He still wouldn’t be able to hire her if she did stay. And she’d made it crystal clear she would only stick around if she got the job.

He’d probably have this feeling in the pit of his stomach for weeks. Like he’d just eaten a belly full of hard leather. But a few weeks out fixing fence lines ought to calm him down some.

All he really needed was hours in the saddle with the wind, Calamity and God to work out that thundercloud stuck in his chest.

“Glad to see you’re saddlin’ up,” Crazy Hoss said. “I thought I might have to talk you into it.”

Jett straightened up and narrowed his eyes. Something big was coming. And it would be about Marlee. Most likely some message Fern wanted Crazy Hoss to give him. Some instructions on true love and going after the girl and never giving up.

Crazy Hoss jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the trailer. “I brought the peace offering,” he said.

A cinnamon mare poked her head out of the horse trailer.

“Meg Aimstock decided to name her Mad Cobbler,” Crazy Hoss grinned. “There ain’t no way Marlee could say no to such a purty horse. Just look at that face.”

Jett snorted and eyed the mare. Mad Cobbler was a beauty all right. She was a wild mustang Meg Aimstock had gentled, but she was sweet as any wild thing ever was. Sweet, spirited and strong. Like Marlee.

But it would take more than a good horse given as a peace offering to get Marlee Donovan to stay. It would take an apology.

And Jett never lied.

“I’m not sorry I didn’t hire her.” He planted his feet and folded his arms.

He didn’t like it any more than Crazy Hoss did, but the truth was, not every cowboy got to ride off into the sunset with his dream cowgirl. Some cowboys had to tend to the harsh realities of life, no matter what it cost them.

Crazy Hoss nodded, but Jett had the feeling the old man wasn’t in full agreement. “You did what you had to do,” Crazy Hoss said mildly.

“But…” Jett narrowed his eyes, waiting for Crazy Hoss to spill the beans.

The old man stood there a little too casually, lips pursed in a nearly-silent innocent whistle as he glanced around the barnyard. Looking anywhere but at Jett.

“I figure a girl like Marlee is worth trying a little harder for,” Crazy Hoss said.

Jett swallowed and the thundercloud in his chest crashed. “I wrote her a letter,” he said. “If she thinks I didn’t hire her because I don’t respect her, then that letter should have set her straight. But she wouldn’t even read it.” He shrugged and swung onto Calamity’s back. “I did what I could.”

“Silas Paycoach hired you because he knew he could count on you,” Crazy Hoss said.

Jett’s heart squeezed. He swallowed the ache in his throat, but it wouldn’t budge. “Exactly,” he said.

Finally, the man understood. Maybe Crazy Hoss would leave him alone now. So he could head out to mend the fence line and be alone with miles of barbed wire and icy wind and the ache in his throat.

“He knew you weren’t a quitter.” Crazy Hoss laid a hand on Calamity’s shoulder, and squinted up at Jett. “He knew you’d always find a way when it came to taking care of the most important things.”

That wily old coon…just when Jett had thought Crazy Hoss would leave him in peace to go off and lick his wounds, the man had to say a thing like that.

Jett cleared his throat. He could almost imagine Silas walking toward him from the barn, calling out his favorite saying.

Cattle is cattle. People is what counts.

“Low blow,” Jett muttered. “Bringing Silas into this.”

Crazy Hoss grinned and slapped Calamity’s shoulder. “You know as well as I do that he’d want you to figure out a way to keep Marlee on without letting the ranch suffer. He’d have you over a barrel until you figured out a solution.”

Jett gathered the reins in one hand and clenched his jaw. Crazy Hoss was right about Silas.

In the distance, a train whistled. Marlee would be boarding in only a few minutes.

“We’ll never catch the train,” Jett said. “I’ll call her when she gets home.”

“Piffle.” The old cowboy glared. “Give her a chance to get all the way home, and I doubt she’d give a rangy cowpoke like you a second look,” he said.

Jett swallowed hard and flexed his grip on the reins. He doubted Marlee would ignore him like Crazy Hoss said. She’d talk to him. She wasn’t unreasonable, assuming he could come up with some kind of compromise.

But blood pumped hard in his veins as if his body was already gearing up to ride.

Crazy Hoss was right. Jett didn’t want to leave something like that up to chance.

Jett fished out his cell phone, and texted his friend.

URGENT. SLOW TRAIN BEFORE CLEARWATER. NEED TIME TO CATCH MY GIRL.

My girl.

His heart pounded even louder. Under him, Calamity shimmied, sensing his drive.

“My advice, ride hard and figure it out in the saddle. I’ll saddle up right behind ya.” Crazy Hoss cackled. “If you can’t convince her, maybe she’ll listen to an old man.”

Jett grinned and settled his hat tightly on his head.

“Hiyah!” He leaned forward, his heart surging as Calamity leapt toward the trail.

Figure it out in the saddle.

Maybe that’s what he should have done all along. That’s where he did all his best thinking.

They shot down the gravel drive, and he eased Calamity around the curve. And as Crazy Hoss whooped behind him, Jett urged Calamity forward.

He’d just left the thundercloud in his dust.

Now he had to catch the woman he loved.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Jett rode hard.

He had to get to Marlee.

He was coming up on Dead Man’s Canyon Road now. Hopefully, in Marlee’s eyes, he wasn’t a dead man riding.