Part Time Cowboy (Copper Ridge Book 1) (2 page)

Of course, her first thought, still, was that he was hot. She’d thought that at seventeen. But then, to a rebellious kid with an affinity for underage drinking, a man who was part of the sheriff’s department was sort of the ultimate fascination. The ultimate no-go. So of course, even when she’d resented his presence, she’d gotten a little kick out of checking him out.

She let out a long breath. She’d sort of hoped that he’d gone on to law enforcement in another town. Or that maybe he’d given up wearing a uniform altogether and discovered a passion for pottery...maybe in the south of France.

But no. Eli Garrett had done what most people from Copper Ridge seemed to do. He’d found his place in the little community and stayed in his carved-out niche.

You should judge. Since you’re back and all.

Yes, she was back.

At this point in the game, Copper Ridge had seemed as good a place as any to give her demons the big middle finger.

And hey, she was facing one of them a little bit early. But, considering he had a gun strapped to his lean hips, she thought maybe giving him the finger wasn’t the best idea.

“I put a call in for you,” he said from over her shoulder.

“Gah!” She startled. “Could you not sneak up on me like that?”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“No. Why would you make me nervous?”

“Criminals
do
seem to get nervous around the badge.”

She frowned. “I am not a criminal. I am a licensed therapist in eight...no,
nine
states.”

“With a criminal record.”

“I was a minor.”

“No arrests since then?” he asked.

“I ask again, am I being detained?”

“No.”

“Then...I’m free to go.”

“Except that you’re out of gas,” he pointed out. Again.

“Well,
you’re
free to go, then.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I could. But I feel like it’s my mission to make sure you don’t get into any trouble. Or light anything on fire.”

“Okay, look, I didn’t light anything on fire on purpose. I knocked over a lantern.”

“Which is why arson wasn’t on the list of things you were arrested for.”

“Do you forget anything?” she asked.

“Public drunkenness. Disturbing the peace, resisting arrest. Not arson, though. And that’s not even mentioning the number of times we had to come and ask you and your friends to leave a store, or stop loitering where you didn’t belong.”

“Good lord, what a sad small life you must lead to remember my rap sheet.
I
barely even remember it.”

“As I said, you don’t forget your first.”

She screwed up her face. “That sounds possibly more sexual than I think you mean it to.”

“How does it sound sexual?”

She squinted. “Really?”

She waited for a full four seconds while it registered. She could see when it did because his humorless, impassive face had a slight shift before going back to being total granite. He still had his sunglasses on, so she couldn’t see his eyes, only her own reflection. Which looked flushed and flustered. And not from heat, that was for sure.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I didn’t say,” she said.

“I know. I tend to remember conversations that happened less than five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see how that’s any of your business, since I’m not being detained for questioning.”

“For someone who hasn’t been arrested more than just the once, you have the lingo down perfectly.”

“I’m a therapist. I work with some troubled souls. I’ve seen more than one arrest.”

“Hmm,” he said. A noise halfway between a word and a grunt.

“What?”

“I’m surprised you became a therapist, is all.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

She knew what that because meant.
Because you’re such a mess.
That was what it meant. And she was not a mess. She wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t a disaster, either. Anyway, thankfully, having your crap together was not a requirement for being able to help others get their crap together. So there. She didn’t say that last part, though. Because...well, gun. Badge. Handcuffs.

“I like to fix things,” she said. That was honest. “To fix people, actually. I don’t just arrest them and throw away the key. I try to make an impact on people’s lives.”

“Well, it takes both types, I guess,” he said.

“Yeah. So anyway, don’t you have some teenage miscreants to harass? I seem to recall that being your MO.”

As soon as she said it, an old red pickup truck eased into the space in front of her and an old man, one who looked familiar, got out, holding a gas can the same color as the truck.

“Well,” the other man said, a smile on his face, “if it isn’t Ms. Sadie Miller.”

Apparently she was wrong about not having anyone in town who still knew her. It was like these people had nothing better to do than remember every single soul who was born in this burg. For all eternity.

In fairness, though, she remembered Bud, too. She had no idea what his real name was. Or if he had one. Hell, that could be it. There was more than one Bubba in town, and they went by it completely un-ironically, so there really was no telling.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it’s me.”

“What brings you back to town?” he asked. “Your parents aren’t back, are they?”

“No,” she said. “They’re still down in Coos Bay.” Not that she spoke to them. For all she knew they could be somewhere else entirely by now, but she didn’t care. Not anymore.

She couldn’t watch their dynamic, not now that she had a choice. She’d moved away from her father’s rages. She wasn’t going to expose herself to them again.

And her mother wouldn’t leave. No matter how many times Sadie begged, her mother wouldn’t leave.

“I see. Well, it’s good to have you back.” He put his hand on the bill of his ball cap and tugged it down sharply before heading to the back of her car and opening up the gas tank.

Just like that. Like her presence mattered. Not like she was some hooligan who’d accidentally started a little barn fire and gotten herself arrested. Not like she was the child of a wife-beater or a disturber of the peace.

Like he was happy she was there.

Darn. She felt a little emotional now.

She unbuckled and got out, standing next to the car and watching Bud, bent at the waist and pouring gas into her car. “Hey, whatever I owe you, I’ll bring it by the gas station. I don’t have cash, but...”

Bud straightened. “Don’t you worry about it,” he said. “Consider it a welcome home.”

She couldn’t fathom why he was being so nice. She’d barely had any interaction with him. Back when she’d been a kid she would often go into the store that was adjacent to the station, after she and some friends had gone swimming in the river, and buy candy bars for fifty cents. Shivering in wet bathing suits in the cold, air-conditioned building.

But she hadn’t really thought of him as someone who would know her. Or...care. “I appreciate that.” But she would still be going down to the gas station to pay him back as soon as she could.

Maybe even before she went to the Garrett ranch.

“Thank you. Both.” She wasn’t going to let Eli Garrett get to her. She wasn’t going to let this stand as some sort of sign of how the rest of her venture here was going to be.

Nope. Just because it began with a vehicular disaster and Eli Garrett did not mean it would continue on that way.

Her eyes clashed with Eli’s and she looked down at the ground before realizing that was more awkward than just looking at him like he was a normal person. And not like he was a very handsome person who had once handcuffed her.

Even though he was.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go now. I have...places to be.” Eli would find out what those places were eventually, but hopefully that didn’t mean they would have to actually see each other.

She got back in the car and shut the door, and saw in her rearview mirror that Eli had done the same. Good.

She took a deep breath and started the engine, then put the car into gear. She was on to new things, reclaiming an old past and stealing its power.

And a little run-in with Eli Garrett wasn’t going to change that.

CHAPTER TWO

T
HE
C
ATALOG
H
OUSE
was even more beautiful than advertised. Rough around the edges, yes, but Sadie had been warned about that.

The lawn needed replanting. Or sod. But she wasn’t sure she had the budget to lay down a grass carpet. Which meant she might be stuck with seeding, and patience. She hated being patient. She didn’t like sitting around. And she had never waited for the grass to grow.

She leaned back against her car and studied the house. From the rocks that went halfway up the facade, to the solid, original wood paneling and the cut-glass windows, it was something that spoke of a different time.

It was hardly a rough-hewn cabin. It was almost too elegant to be out here, buried in the trees at the base of the mountains. But she knew, from what Connor had sent in his email, that the house was one his great-great-grandfather had ordered for his wife from a Sears and Roebuck catalog around 1914. Something to make the wilderness of Oregon seem a little less wild, compared to their old home in Boston.

Sadie imagined that, in a land of log cabins, this had been the most modern dwelling in the area.

Not so much now, but it had charm. And really, that was what a bed-and-breakfast needed. Connor had said renovations would be up to her, but she had permission to do what she wanted to the place, so long as she paid for it and—per her lease—left it in better condition than when she came. Which meant, according to him, “no stupid shit like shag carpet.”

She took in a deep breath, let the smell wrap itself around her. The sharp tang of salt from the sea, wood that was heated by the sun, and pine all lingered in the air.

It was familiar, but different, too. She’d been away from this air for a long time, and when she’d left, there was nothing about Copper Ridge that had felt special to her. She hadn’t been able to see the beauty anymore. It had all shrunk down to a little house on the wrong side of the highway, and the smell of dirt, blood and booze.

There hadn’t been a lot of moments where she’d stopped and smelled the forest. If she’d ever gone into the forest it had been to hide out, in a little alcove not far from the Garrett ranch, and smoke a cigarette. Which sort of negated the fresh clean air aspect of it all.

It struck her then that she was within walking distance of the place. That if she wanted to, she could leave her half-unpacked boxes and see the haven she’d gone to with her friends all those years ago.

A strange ache filled her chest, a feeling of longing and homesickness that was unfamiliar to her. There was weight in that clearing. Roots. And, she strongly suspected, a high probability of ghosts of bad decisions past.

She and her friends had been nothing more than children then, angry at life. Determined to do whatever they could to take back some control. Which had taken the form of drugs, alcohol and sex. Because those little rebellions felt like an achievement.

But she was an adult now. And she had the control. The life she made here would be hers. More than just a reaction to what was happening in her family home.

She didn’t need to see the clearing. And there were no ghosts.

With that final thought, she picked up Toby’s pet carrier and strode up the front porch and lifted the lid on the mail slot by the door. Connor had said he’d put a key in there for her. She had the impression he intended to interact with her as little as possible.

Which suited her just fine. She had the money she needed to do the remodeling on the house, and she was sort of looking forward to spending a few weeks in relative solitude handling all of it before she got things up and running.

Maybe then she’d look up her old friends. Or not. That would be...well, it would be too close to revisiting times that hadn’t been fun for anyone. Maybe she would meet a guy. Go on a date.

Lately she’d been out of the habit of both dating and making friends.

The moves made it hard. And if she was honest, starting fresh was her preference. She didn’t like bringing old places with her into the new ones. Not that there weren’t friends and boyfriends she had cared for. She had cared. She did. It was just that she liked them as happy memories. She didn’t like letting a relationship stretch on to the point it started to show wear and tear.

She pulled the brass key out of the box and put it in the matching lock, turning it hard before it gave. “All right, Toby,” she said. “Welcome home, whether we like it or not, because we can’t back out of the lease, and after I remodel this place, we’ll officially be broke.”

She walked them both inside and looked around. It was dark, but it was clean. The wood floors were definitely in need of polishing, but nothing was seriously wrong with them. There were some threadbare rugs that needed replacing, light fixtures that needed updating. But it didn’t smell like mold or anything, so that was a bonus.

“It really does have to work out,” she said, setting Toby’s carrier up on the kitchen table. “Because otherwise you’ll be reduced to standing on a street corner and offering kitty head scritches for money. And none of us want to see you stoop that low.”

She opened up his cage and he wandered out, looking around and sniffing the air, his tail twitching. She ran her hand over his gray striped fur, then scratched him behind his ears. “Really, though, you could charge for this service,” she said. “You give me instant Zen.”

Toby just looked at her, as though to say he would be much more Zen if they were back in their bright, white apartment in sunny San Diego.

But then, Toby was used to following her around at this point, so she knew his indignation would be brief.

First order of business was to get Toby’s litter box out of the car. The second was to start making this place habitable.

Like it or not, ready or not, she’d made a five-year commitment, and she had to see it through.

“All right, Toby,” she said. “It’s time to do this thing.”

* * *

“T
HERE
WAS
A
CAR
over at the Catalog House. I saw it when I pulled in,” Eli said.

“Yeah.”

Eli glanced at his brother, who was at the kitchen table looking more sullen and antisocial than usual. Which was saying something.

“And there was a light on,” Eli continued, pushing for an explanation.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“No shit. I thought you were the law enforcement around here. You’d think you could put two and two together.”

Eli was tempted to hit Connor over the head with something, but it was June. And June was a bad month for Connor, since it was his anniversary month. But then, March was a bad month for Connor, too, because it was Jessie’s birthday. And April was a bad month because it was the month she’d died three years ago. August was when they’d started dating, ten years ago. December was when they’d gotten engaged.

So basically, there were a lot of bad months for Connor. And Eli got it, and he hurt on his behalf. But it didn’t mean he didn’t want to hit his brother for his obnoxious surliness sometimes.

“Would you care to explain?”

“Sure. We need some more revenue. I leased the house. Long-term.”

“What? Don’t you think we should have talked about this?” he asked.

“No,” Connor said. “Because while I respect that this ranch is yours, too, you have to respect that it’s more essential to me. It’s my only job, Eli. You and Kate have work outside this place, but I don’t, because someone has to run it full-time.”

“I know that, but you didn’t think about telling me you were going to lease out a house on our property?”

“I did think about it. I decided against it. Because I thought, at the end of the day, it was my damned decision.”

“Dammit, Connor, I say this with love, please get drunk and pass out. You’re impossible when you’re like this.”

“I’m always like this,” Connor said.

“Yeah, and you’re always impossible.”

“Why are you all growling in here?” Kate, the youngest of the Garrett clan, walked into the kitchen, her dark hair in a low ponytail. She looked like she’d been working hard all day, and it was probably because she had been.

“Because Connor’s in the room,” Eli told her.

Kate smiled and crossed to Connor, planting a kiss on his cheek. Connor grunted.

“I love you, too,” she said. “Did anyone make dinner?”

“No one made dinner,” Eli said. “We all have jobs. But I did bring a pizza, just in case.” Eli turned and put the box of pizza on the granite countertop. Kate started getting plates out of the cupboard.

This was Connor’s house, the main house on the property, which he’d shared with Jessie during their years as a married couple. He stayed because this was the family ranch, going back generations. Because he was the one who worked the land, and the one least likely to leave. This was his rightful place.

But Eli often got the feeling he hated it.

“I will take a beer now,” Connor said.

“Get it yourself,” Kate suggested. “I’m already dishing up your dinner, and I am not a waitress.”

“You wouldn’t get a tip if you were one,” Connor grumbled, getting up from his spot at the table and wandering to the fridge, jerking it open.

Eli noticed that there wasn’t much in it beyond beer and cheese. He wasn’t sure he liked what that said about his brother’s mental state. Or maybe it was just that Connor hadn’t had time to go shopping recently. That could be it.

“You should get a housekeeper,” Eli said.

Connor grunted, which was something he seemed to do a lot lately. “I don’t want a stranger rifling around in my stuff.”

“Then hire someone you know.”

“No.”

Eli took a piece of pizza out of the box and set it on a plate, doing his best to ignore Kate, who wasn’t using her plate, but was standing, arched over the bar, dripping sauce onto the otherwise clean surface.

Eli didn’t like that. He liked things in their place. He liked things clean. He’d spent too many years putting things in order to let them slide now.

When they’d been kids, cleanliness hadn’t just been a preference, it had been survival. Connor keeping things going on the ranch and Eli making it appear that there was a functional adult managing the household had been the only way to keep Child Protective Services away.

Order had been the only thing keeping them all together.

“So, Connor was just telling me about our new tenant.”

“We have a tenant?” Kate asked, her mouth full.

“Yes, we do.”

“Get me a beer, Connor,” Kate said.

“Do I look like a damned waitress, Katie? Do I?” he growled, while he stalked back to the fridge and got out two beers, handing one to each of his siblings.

“Guess so,” Kate said, taking the bottle and popping the top on the counter.

Sometimes Eli wondered if Kate had suffered a bit for having nothing but men in her life. But if he mentioned that to Kate she would probably spit on him. Which just proved his point.

“So,” Eli said, leaning against the counter. “The tenant.”

Anything to get his mind off the events from earlier today. Sadie Miller. He remembered her as a little blonde ball of trouble. Dressed in all black, ripped jeans, she’d been a stereotype of social rebellion. His least favorite kind of brat to deal with. She’d also been feisty as hell. Resisting arrest was putting it mildly. It had been his first summer with the sheriff’s department, and they’d broken up a big party in an empty barn. Drunk, freaked-out teenagers had made the whole thing a nightmare. Basically, all hell had broken loose.

And he had ended up handcuffing and booking seventeen-year-old Sadie, making her the first person he’d ever arrested. Though ultimately she wasn’t charged, as he’d said, with ill-advised word choices today, you never forgot your first.

“I drew up a long-term lease so that the Catalog House could be used as a bed-and-breakfast,” Connor said.

“A what?” he and Kate asked the question in unison.

“You heard me. With the renovation of Old Town, and the fireworks show on the ocean getting bigger every year, tourism is a big deal. And I want in on that industry.”

“How is your going behind our backs us being ‘in on the industry’?”

“Income from the lease, and a small percentage of profits. And like I already told you,” he said, directing his words at Eli, “some of us only get money from the ranch, so the more profitable I can make it, the better.”

“And you’re sure that your lessee isn’t going to destroy the place?”

“She’s a local. Or at least, she was.”

The hair on the back of Eli’s neck stood on end. “Is she?”

“Yeah. Younger than us, older than Kate, so I don’t think any of us would have known her in school.”

He would have laughed if there were anything remotely funny about it. “I have a good guess about who it might be,” he said, setting his beer on the counter. “Sadie Miller?”