Return to Marker Ranch (4 page)

“Thanks,” Wade muttered, touched and mortified by Dan's kindness. Was his PTSD that obvious? Could everyone see it? He grabbed his bag. “I appreciate that.”

“And if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here. I'll probably understand. It's an adjustment, Wade. Sometimes it helps to have someone who's been through it on your side.”

Wade squared his shoulders. He was an army ranger, dammit. Not some emotional ponytailed dude like Dan who wanted to talk about his feelings. “I'm doing good, Dan. I appreciate the offer, though, truly.” Raising his cup of coffee in a brief salute, Wade pushed through the door into the crisp morning air. He could do this. He could shop and ranch and overcome this PTSD thing on his own. He had to. He'd come home to Benson to resurrect the Hoffman ranch and make his family name stand for something much finer than it had before. And that wasn't going to happen if he sat around telling sob stories with Dan Sanders at the Blue Water Mercantile.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

L
ORI
SCOWLED
AS
she turned into Wade's driveway. Everything about him moving back to Marker Ranch felt unfair. Especially seeing Wade now. He was bent over, sanding the board he'd laid across a couple of sawhorses, his working arm muscles so defined she could see them from here. Unfair. He was dressed in a tight khaki T-shirt and low-slung faded jeans, with a tool belt hanging off his hips. And that was unfair, too. Because he was beautiful and he affected her like no one else ever had. It had always been that way for her, and it wasn't fair that despite everything that had happened between them, she still couldn't drag her eyes away.

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since he'd stepped out of that shed the other day. Which was
also
unfair, since she'd devoted years of effort to forgetting him. Obviously it hadn't worked. Maybe her old desire for him had been lingering this entire time like some kind of cancer, deep in her cells. Now that he was back, it was spreading through her system, and there didn't seem to be much she could do to stop it. But she couldn't let it get the better of her. She had to be strong today.

If Wade was surprised to see her, he didn't let on, just glanced up as her truck bumped down his driveway and shoved a pair of safety glasses up onto his head.

Maybe she was a coward, afraid of the emotions Wade drew out of her, but she was glad she'd brought Jim along. Her ranch foreman had known her since she was a kid. She was far more likely to behave well with him looking on.

“He needs to grade this road,” Jim complained. “My old bones can't take this kind of jostle.”

Lori forced herself to stop noticing the way Wade's chest muscles moved when he reached up to wipe sweat from his forehead. “That might have more to do with the state of the shocks on this old truck.”

“Or the state of
my
shocks,” Jim said with a grin. “I'm telling you, I may just heed your father's example and get myself a little beach shack down in Florida somewhere.”

Lori glanced his way, wondering if he was serious. “I hope you don't. Or at least, see me through this first year. Please? It's a rough one so far.”

Jim's face creased into a reassuring smile. “You're doing just fine.”

“I don't think so. The guys hate me. I swear they roll their eyes every time I ask them to do something.”

“They don't hate you. But they
are
testing you.” Jim gripped his door handle with white knuckles when Lori navigated around a pothole so big it might have been a crater. “You've always been a spitfire, Lori. Don't hold back on those guys just because you're in charge now. If they give you grief, be a smartass and dish it straight back at 'em. When they see you giving as good as you get, they'll settle down.”

“That's not the management advice they gave me in college.”

“Well, maybe those college folks don't know everything.”

“Maybe not. I'll work on my smartassness.” She shot him a wink and he chuckled.

“I'll look forward to it. Now park this damn truck before we hit another one of these bumps.”

They were at the end of the drive, where the dusty road widened into the dusty front yard. Lori put the truck into Park and stopped the engine. “You ready for this?”

“Let's get it over with.” Jim shook his head. “Never did think I'd see the day when I came begging a Hoffman for water.”

As they stepped down from the truck and slammed the doors, Wade came toward them. “Hey, Lori” was all he said. She couldn't read his expression. She'd never really been able to. Even when they were kids, he'd masked his feelings behind a wall of defiance and attitude—a magnet for her adolescent heart. And right now it was all back. Shielding him. Awakening all of that same ridiculous longing.

“Do you remember Jim Duncan?”

“Of course. Nice to see you again, Jim.”

Lori marveled at Wade's polite tone, his calm, cordial voice. The military had certainly taught him good manners.

“Nice to have you back, Wade. I can see you've already made some improvements on the place.” Jim reached out and shook Wade's hand.

Lori smiled at Jim, grateful that he was the one buttering Wade up. She knew bringing him with her was a good idea. He'd make sure she kept things professional.

Both men were looking at her expectantly.

She took a bracing breath. “Wade, I said some things the other day that I regret.”

Jim looked at her sharply. She hadn't exactly filled him in on the details of her and Wade's previous chat.

“Thank you,” Wade said carefully.

“Your new well had me really worried. It still does.”

“Is that what brings you out here?”

“I met with Bill Cooper about our water situation. He had an idea that might be beneficial to both of us.”

Wade leaned back against the sawhorse behind him and crossed his arms. “Okay,” he said, “shoot.”

Lori swallowed hard. She remembered Mandy's advice.
Humble pie.
“He said that trying to drill deeper will only create new problems.” She readied herself for the hard part. “So Bill thought... I thought...maybe we could share the water from your well?”

Wade stared at some spot on the ground in front of his battered work boots. “I don't know,” he finally answered.

“You don't know?” It wasn't what she'd expected, and her voice came out in a squeak.

Jim touched her arm in a silent command to calm down. “Son, it's like this. The water in your well has been supporting the upper end of Lone Mountain Ranch for a long time. We're gonna need some of it back.”

Wade nodded slowly. “With all due respect, Jim, I didn't do anything wrong when I sunk a well on my property. And you don't know for sure that my well is what caused yours to dry up.”

“But Bill Cooper said so!” Lori regretted the words the second they were out. She sounded like a four-year-old.

“Of course we'd compensate you for the use of your well,” Jim went on as if she hadn't spoken. “Split any maintenance costs, for example.”

“And it would help us manage the existing water in the aquifer more carefully if we were working together,” Lori added.
There.
That sounded scientific and neutral.

“Look, I get that you guys are in a bind,” Wade said. “But as you know, I'm only just getting started, and this place has been neglected for a very long time. I've sunk all I have into this ranch, and my sister's done the same.”

“I thought I saw Nora the other day,” Jim said. “But I figured my old eyes were playing tricks on me.”

Wade brightened a little at the mention of his sister. They'd always been close. “She's working as a consultant on range management. But in her free time she's been here, helping me out.”

“That's really great,” Lori chimed in. “How nice that you're working together to start up the ranch again.”

“Thanks.” Wade gave her a glance with eyebrows raised, obviously recognizing her chipper demeanor for what it truly was—desperation. He saw right through her—he always had. It was like he was born with a Lori Allen instruction manual and he'd memorized the whole thing. Back in high school, she'd tried to hide her crush on him, but he'd known the entire time.

“Lori, I want to help. I really do. But I'm new at this. I don't know how much water I'm going to need, and I don't want to take any big risks. I've got to turn a profit as fast as possible or I won't be able to make it.”

“I understand that.” Lori tried to calm the anxiety rising inside. “But I need to make a profit, too, and with this drought, we're on year three of loss. I've got cows and calves up in the mountains that I need to bring down, and I've been counting on my upper pastures for them. If I can't irrigate that area, what am I supposed to do?”

Wade shifted uncomfortably. “I'm not saying no to your idea outright. But I'm definitely going to need a little time to crunch the numbers and see if it will work.”

“But it's not
your
water.” Lori's clenched her hands into fists, digging them into the sides of her thighs, trying to keep her temper in check. He held the fate of her ranch in his hands, and he couldn't be bothered to give her an answer?
How could he be so selfish? How could he not say yes?

“I'm sorry, Lori. I promise I'll look the numbers over this week and get back to you.” Wade stood up a little straighter, as if letting them know the conversation was over.

There had to be a way to make him see reason. “Wade, if this is about the other day...”

“Hang on, Lori.” Jim set a warning hand on her arm. “We appreciate it, Wade. We really do. We'll look forward to hearing from you.” Jim reached out and shook Wade's hand and then took Lori firmly by the elbow, steering her to the truck.

Fury seethed inside. She hated this. Hated that Wade had only been on Marker Ranch for a few weeks and he was already causing her trouble. Once again he showed up in her life and destroyed it in one cool, detached move. She turned, ignoring Jim's murmured warning.

“I take back that apology.”

“I figured you might.” Wade's jaw was set and stubborn. “Just say your piece, Lori. Then we can both get on with our day.”

She'd heard the term
seeing red
before. Now she knew what it meant. Anger colored everything. Her, Wade and his damn ranch were all on fire. “What you're doing is wrong.
Wrong!
You took our water!”

“I didn't...”

She didn't want to hear his excuses. About anything. “There's a right way to ranch and a wrong way to ranch. And you don't seem to know the difference. You should listen to people who do know right from wrong. Like Jim here!”

Jim put up a hand in protest, as if telling her to leave him out of her tirade. She was beyond caring.

“You know what, Wade? You can pretend you're different from your family. That you are back here trying to turn this place into a legal business. But right now you're acting like just one more Hoffman thief. Just like your brothers! Just like your dad!”

Wade froze as if she'd struck him. If she'd had any kind of large, heavy object, she might have. She was that furious.

Jim's grip tightened on her elbow, and he tugged.

“Let go of me,” she spat out, still glaring at Wade.

“Lori, that is enough!” Jim barked and all but dragged her the rest of the way to the truck.

As soon as they were inside and she had the engine roaring, he turned to her. “You want to tell me what was going on back there?”

“He's wrong.” She jerked the wheel, trying to get them turned around and away from Wade as fast as possible.

“Yeah, and he probably would have figured that out if you'd given him the time he was asking for. Instead you just drove him into a corner. I'm pretty sure you can say goodbye to that water.”

“Well, he was already making it pretty clear he wouldn't share it.”

“He was asking for time to think! Don't you remember how that kid struggled in school? He probably just needs some time to work out the math and make sure it's all going to be okay. It was a reasonable request.”

Every word Jim said was true. But there was more to it than he knew. And there was no way she could tell him. “I'm sorry I wasted your time today, Jim,” she said stiffly. “I'll order some water to tide us over until we get this figured out.”

“That's an expensive choice.”

His words stung with their truth. “Well, right now it's my only choice, so I'll just have to make it work.”

“You say you want to lead this ranch. But your dad wouldn't have...”

She cut him off before he could go further down that road. “My dad isn't here anymore. I think we
both
wish he was sometimes. I'll figure this out, Jim. I promise. And I'm sorry I messed up today.”

He didn't answer, and they drove the rest of the way back to the ranch in a clouded silence. Lori just hoped Jim didn't mention any of this to the rest of the staff. The last thing she wanted was for her already skeptical ranch hands to know that she'd totally lost it and called their neighbor a thief. It wouldn't help earn their respect. She knew that for certain, because right now she was having trouble respecting herself.

 

CHAPTER SIX

W
ADE
HANDED
HIS
sister the sheet of numbers he'd worked out. Units of water required. Current output from the well. Just like it said in his ranching books. “Thanks for coming by to take a look at this.”

But Nora just set his spreadsheet facedown on the dining room table between them. “You don't get it. It's not about the numbers.”

He stared at her in shock. “How can you say that? You're a scientist. You're all about the numbers!”

“Mostly, yes.” Nora nodded. “But in this case they don't matter. You just need to do what's right. You can't quantify that.”

He'd asked his sister over to look at the facts, not dish out morality. “So you're saying I should just give her half of my well water?”

“Yes.” She gave him the calm smile he'd relied on for so much of his life. “I think it's that simple.”

Nerves twisted in his stomach. “But I can't afford to. It says it right there on that paper.” Wade picked it up again. He'd done his homework last night—almost all night. “Look, I can't afford to make a big mistake. We don't have much capital left.”

“Then find a way to make it work
despite
the numbers. This isn't just about the water. It's about being a good neighbor. It's about being a part of the community.”

“Those things won't mean much if I fail and lose the ranch.”

“So don't fail.”

“How?” He stood up, pacing the floor by the table. “How do I not fail if I make decisions based on being nice? This is water we're talking about. A key ingredient for a ranch.”

Nora gave him a long look. She'd given him the same look many times when he was a teenager and she wasn't much older than that, and she was trying to raise him right. “Ranches here are failing left and right. Do you really want Lori to lose hers? After how hard she and her family have worked to keep it going all these years? Even after their mom died?”

He remembered how devastated Lori had been. How she'd drifted, sad and empty, through her sophomore year of high school. How she'd grown up after that, become an adult way before the rest of them had, trying to take care of her father and her sister. He'd watched her back then, wishing he knew how to offer comfort. “Of course I don't want them to lose their ranch. But it's a business, right? Everything I've read about ranching says it's a business. And we need that water to make our business a success.”

“Any good book on business should also mention that out of hardship can come innovation. You need to let go of some of that water and then innovate. Figure out a way to get by with less.”

“But...”

Nora cut him off. “Your books won't help with this issue because they're not written for people experiencing the worst drought in California's long history of droughts! But you and Lori are smart. And you've got me—how many people can say they have an expert on range management in the family? I'll go though her pastures as well as ours if you want, and see if I can help.”

“I guess.” Wade set the paper aside, trying to put aside his anxiety with it. He was overly cautious. He knew that. Partly because he'd come back here to prove that he could make this a success.

But also because growing up, ranching was his dream. He'd watched the other families in the area with their cattle and horses and their nice clothes and pickups. He'd seen their barbecues and barn raisings and the way they high-fived and slapped backs at local events. And he'd wanted that life. A normal, hardworking life. He'd wanted it badly, and now he had a small chance at making it happen.

He shook his head, trying to loosen the anxious buzzing there. The voice whispering that no matter what he did about the water, he'd find a way to mess this up because failure was in his DNA. He tried to shush it, to see it for what it really was—the aftereffects of months in combat. The whispers of doubt over the smallest decisions. The intense irritation when things didn't go his way. It was making him rigid. It had him digging his heels in with Lori and Jim the other day. Had him grimly clinging on to what he felt might be the quickest path to security and survival—no matter what the consequences to others.

Nora stood up and reached for his hand, guiding him back down to his seat at the table. “Little bro, take a breath. It's going to be okay.”

He raised his brows at her. “Really?”

“I think so. You're just in survival mode right now. And it's making you a little frantic.”

“What do you mean?” He'd been in survival mode before. With bullets hitting the dirt around him as he scrabbled for shelter. This wasn't that.

“I mean how we grew up. Everyday survival. How to get food, how to get clothes, how to make it without a mom, how to stay out of Dad's way. I think it's easy to slip back into that way of thinking, where it's all about trying to get the next meal.”

Wade traced an old water stain on the table. He hated talking about the past. Hated remembering the searing of his dad's belt on his back and the ache of hunger in his stomach.

“Sometimes I wonder if all that surviving made us a little hard,” Nora said quietly. “Because we had to look out for ourselves, and focus all our energy on just getting by.”

“That's a good thing,” Wade countered. “We're not dependent. We take care of ourselves. It's made us successful.” It had brought him through some scary battles.

“It
can
be a good thing,” Nora said gently. “But lately I've been thinking about how all the independence that saved us when we were kids may not be quite so helpful now that we're adults. I mean, we can
survive
on our own, but don't you want more than survival? Don't you want friends and neighbors and... I don't know...love?”

“Love?” He had to tease her. It was his brotherly duty. “I don't know about that, seeing as you've gone all soft on me since you got together with Todd. Where's the Nora who taught me to look out for myself and make sure I succeeded?”

“All that's still important. But if that's
all
we do, life's not going to be very rich, is it? I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. But you asked for my opinion. And my opinion is to ignore the numbers and share the water.”

“It's not what I expected you'd say.” He crumpled up the paper in disgust. And because he was still her little brother, he threw it at her.

Nora caught it in one hand and grinned. “Glad I can still surprise you, bro. Trust me on this one, okay?”

“Sure. But if that well runs out of water, you'll help me figure out what to do next, right?”

“I'll buy you your first water delivery.”

“Ah...so consoling.” He delivered the sarcasm with a smile. “You always were good to me.”

Nora laughed. “Back atcha. And one more piece of advice?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Fine. Shoot.” He sat back, waiting for the lecture. He dreaded it mostly because she was probably right. She always had been. Five years older than him and many, many years wiser.

“Look, if you really want to get rid of the legacy of Dad and our brothers, and make the Hoffman name mean something more than larceny and drug deals, you need to get off this ranch. Don't hide out here. You need to spend some time in town, meet some people. Let everyone see you've changed.”

He let out a bark of a laugh. “This from the world's biggest introvert.”

“Yes, and even
I'm
trying.”

She was. He'd seen it and admired her for it. Todd was friends with most of the town, and Nora gamely stepped out by his side, quietly facing down anyone who despised her for her family history. “I hate it when you're right all the time.'

“It's my job as your older sister.”

“Ha!”

“But seriously, Wade, you
need
to get out more.”

It was clear she wasn't going to let him off without a promise. “Okay. Fine. I'll go out for a beer or something. As long as you let Todd off the leash for a night so he can go with me.”

“I don't have him on a leash!” she protested, flushing.

Now he was in full-on little brother mode. It was far more comfortable than hearing about his mistakes. “Really? And when's the last time you two spent more than a couple of hours apart?”

“We like each other!” Nora was beet red now. She'd always blushed easily.

“He's leashed. Arf arf!”

“Okay, twelve-year-old. You can borrow my fiancé for a night out this weekend. Now, do you need anything else? Because I told Todd I'd meet him for dinner.”

“I rest my case.”

She grinned. “Glad you're feeling better. Now go fix things with Lori, you big dork.”

* * *

W
ADE
WATCHED
N
ORA
'
S
Jeep disappear down the driveway before he sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. He had no idea how he was going to handle the night out he'd just gotten himself into.

And Lori. He'd have to find a way to face her as well. She'd looked like an angry angel on his ranch yesterday, with her hair swirling around her shoulders and her eyes dark with hurt. So different from the way she'd looked at him, full of longing and acceptance and desire, all those years ago, just before they'd made love. Her first time, and the first time it ever mattered for him.

And damn, it had mattered. He'd loved her from a distance through high school. She'd been smart and strong and good at everything she turned her hand to. He'd leaned on the fence down at the arena, watching her win junior rodeo ribbons right alongside the boys her age. He'd seen her name semester after semester on the school honor roll posted in the fancy glass case by the office. He'd listened to her up at the podium delivering student council speeches and stole glances after school when she headed off to cheerleading practice in her cute uniform.

He'd watched her and wanted her and never felt worthy of her. He was the kid from so far down the wrong side of the tracks he might as well have been living in another country. Most days he was lucky to figure out where his meals were coming from, let alone what his homework was. And he covered his misery in the couldn't-care-less attitude and cigarette-smoking armor of the kids like him. The ones who couldn't go home until their angry-drunk dads had passed out. The ones who had nowhere to study, or who didn't have what it took to succeed in school. The almost-dropouts, the almost-failing, the lost kids.

Until that one day when he'd finally gotten himself kicked out of school for good, and she'd offered him comfort and so much more. And he'd taken everything she'd given. And then pushed her away for both their sakes.

And now, when he'd come home a combat veteran, and possibly, finally, worthy of all that she was, he'd blown it. Because of the anxiety that had him grabbing at the things he could touch and see, like gallons of water and spreadsheets of numbers. Anxiety that had him tongue-tied in front of her, unable to give her the water she wanted or the apology she deserved.

He had to do something different. Had to figure out a way around the throttlehold the PTSD had on him. Because it wasn't just affecting him. It was hurting Lori, the girl he'd loved, who'd given him memories he'd held on to like a talisman during all the dark and fear-filled nights in Afghanistan, when he wasn't sure he'd make it back alive.

* * *

D
R
. H
ERNANDEZ
KNELT
over the heifer lying in the dry grass. The young cow was breathing heavily in the soft evening air. Wade could feel his breathing catch right along with hers.

“Did you check the papers carefully when you bought these gals?” the vet asked.

Wade racked his stressed-out brain, trying to picture what the seller had given him. It had been a hectic day. He'd injured his shoulder and Nora had handled the delivery. “Well, I know I got papers. And the seller said they'd had all their shots.”

“Yes, but did he hand you a certificate from a veterinarian? Did you have a vet look them over before you accepted them?”

“No.” He watched the doctor's brows draw together as he surveyed the rest of the herd. About a quarter of the heifers were standing around listlessly. “I guess I should have.”

“Yup.” The vet sighed. “It's okay, Wade. It's a pretty common mistake.”

Dr. Hernandez wasn't much older than him, and Wade appreciated his blunt honesty. It was what he was used to after the army. “So I messed up. What can I do to fix it?”

“It's a respiratory illness. They probably never got their booster shots. It's treatable. You need to separate out the sick ones and give them antibiotics. And they're all going to need to be vaccinated. Come on over to my van and I'll get everything ready for you.” He paused. “You know how to give them shots, don't you?”

He'd
read
about how to give them shots. He knew he should confess his ignorance, but he couldn't stand to have the doctor think he was an even bigger fool. “Yeah,” he said casually. “That's not a problem.” But then he remembered Lori's harsh words of advice. A rancher needed to face mistakes and fix them fast. These cattle depended on him. There was no room for pride here. “Actually, no, not really.”

“Look,” Dr. Hernandez said as he opened a box in his van. “I can show you really quick, but do you have anyone who can help you out? Maybe someone who can mentor you a bit? Cattle ranching is complicated—a lot can go wrong. And if too much goes wrong, it can be dangerous for you, for the animals and even for the consumer.”

Wade watched the doctor measure out liquid into a glass bottle. He didn't relish folks around here knowing how little experience he had running a ranch. There was only one person he could possibly confess that to. And she'd called him a thief yesterday.