The Cowboy's Girl Next Door: A BWWM Cowboy Romance Page 5

  Only his brother, Clyde Halloram, wanted to keep the property in the family, even though he, a newly minted lawyer, and wasn’t much interested in farming, either. Instead, he’d considered turning the land into commercial property, and had even lined up a corporate buyer interested in building a factory on the property. It would have brought money, jobs, and growth to the community.

  The citizens of Kerrville were farmers and ranchers through and through, and they opposed his attempts at every turn. When Randy Hardy finally came to an agreement with Judd, Clyde had actually spit on the ground at Randy’s feet, telling him he was backwards and going to ruin the future of the town.

  He’d stayed in Kerrville, though, committed to the area in his own way, and eventually he’d become the judge for the small community, doing his best to make decisions that would keep order and peace while working in his off time to bring in small businesses and industry.

  Clyde’s grudge against the Hardys held, though, and Randy and Jess both learned to steer clear of him as best they could. Lacey had come closest to brokering a truce, finally getting Jess to agree to take Clyde’s daughter, Patricia, on a date to see if they’d hit it off. They did, for a while, but Jess quickly figured out that the girl was more interested in getting to the city than staying on the ranch, and that was the end of that. Nope, the only way to get past Clyde Halloram’s wrath was to outlive him, and that was what Jess intended to do.

  He wanted to talk to Claire. He thought if they could talk, now that she’d perhaps calmed down, they could settle this between them, but his lawyer insisted that he leave her alone. Jess couldn’t help himself, though, from peering in on her whenever his work took him onto the part of the property that ran alongside Heart’s Home, a circumstance that Jasper remarked seemed ridiculously frequent of late. Sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of her out riding Thalia or Calliope; other times, he’d see her and her mother drive past the front of the ranch on their way into town, the sleek black sedan out of place in the rural landscape.

  He thought about her in the tack room, too, remembering the straining muscles of her arms and shoulders as she snapped the leather strap taut. Sometimes he allowed himself the pleasure of lingering over her image in his memory, the dark curly ponytail swaying as she tugged the leather, brushing back and forth over her smooth dark skin.

  At night, he would dream of her riding free in the fields and pastures and sometimes he’d dream that he was there, too. He’d wake in sweat and groan from the frustration of this woman who’d destroyed the peace of his days.

  On the day of the hearing, he dressed carefully, choosing a trim navy suit, crisp white shirt, and burgundy tie. He wore his best boots, black and polished. He’d had Jasper cut his hair, too, at Lacey’s insistence, and when he looked in the mirror, he thought that he’d easily fit into the sort of firm Claire had worked in prior to her move, except, of course, for his choice of footwear.

  He stopped in the kitchen for a cup of coffee and toast before he left. Lacey was working on the ranch’s books, and she let out a whistle as she peered at him over the top of her reading glasses. “Looking good, little brother. Too bad ol’ Halloram’s already married.” She chuckled, amused by herself, then added, “Or maybe you’re hoping for a settlement from our new neighbor?” Lacey removed her glasses and stared at him.

  “Whatever you do, try to make amends. I’m dying to actually meet her, and Cella hasn’t been able to talk to Pauline for days, now that she’s working at Heart’s Home.” She rose and walked over to adjust Jess’s tie and brush some crumbs from his jacket. “She’s gonna be here for a long time, so make this right.”

  Jess scowled. “She’s the one who refuses to settle, not me.” He finished the coffee and placed the cup in the sink. “Still, big sister, I’ll do my very best. I know you’re dying to find out more about her to share with your buddies at church.” He winked at her surprised expression, put on his hat, grabbed his keys, and left the house.

  The drive to the courthouse took about thirty minutes, and during that time, he thought about what he’d done wrong. Yes, he could have done a better job of securing Horatio, but the horse was going to get what he wanted; the damage to the corral was plenty enough evidence of that, and yes, he shouldn’t have made light of the incident.

  After all, Claire had invested a great deal in her horses and the ranch, and to have such an unfortunate welcome to Kerrville must have thrown her.

  Deep down, though, he knew that the real offense had come from his implication that Horatio and he shared similar desires. She’d made it clear, hadn’t she, that she wasn’t interested in romance, and he’d just run off at the mouth, regardless. He might not know a lot about women, but he knew that he’d gone a step too far in that.

  It started raining right when he pulled up at the courthouse, a light drizzle that was more an annoyance than anything. He grabbed an umbrella from behind the seat bench and stepped out of the pickup. The black sedan pulled in right behind him, and as she emerged, he got his first real look at Claire since this had all happened.

  In a trim black suit skirt and jacket, white silk blouse and pearls, she looked sternly beautiful. Her hair was tamed into a tight bun, small pearl and gold earrings dangling delicately at the nape of her neck. He was overcome with the urge to kiss her there, but when he saw the anger and hurt still in her eyes, those feelings were tempered.

  He watched as she walked around to the passenger side of the car and helped her mother get out of the vehicle. Carmen smiled warmly at him, then gave him a conspiratorial wink as she let her daughter lead her past him on the sidewalk and into the courthouse. Jess was puzzled by this, but somewhat comforted as well, and he followed them through the door.

  It had been a few years since he’d been in the old courtroom. The dark paneled walls and benches gleamed from the tender care they had been given for years by Alma Jones, the court secretary. This was Alma’s house no matter what Clyde Halloram thought, and she’d trained her son, Andy, to be just as scrupulous in his bailiff’s duties as she was in hers.

  Jess settled into his seat next to his lawyer, Bill Watson, as Claire took her seat next to her own attorney, some fellow named Clifton Shackleford, who seemed totally bewildered to find himself in a small town courtroom in Texas. Within minutes, Judge Halloram was announced, and the trial began.

  Forty minutes later, after they’d each presented their sides of the case and answered all of the lawyer’s questions, they found themselves waiting in the marbled hallway outside the courtroom while Halloram made his decisions. Carmen took advantage of Claire’s bathroom break to walk over to Jess.

  “Don’t give up on her, son,” she said, giving him another wink. “She can be stubborn, has every reason to be, with what she’s been through lately. Just give her time, and all will turn out right as rain.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Jess stammered, surprised by her words and the wink. She patted his arm before she walked away and joined her daughter’s lawyer. Jess looked at Bill, who shrugged and shook his head.

  When they were called back into the courtroom, Jess kept his eyes focused on Claire, as the judge rendered his verdict. She was regal and composed. He wondered what sort of work she had done before, this woman who seemed equally as comfortable in the courtroom as the corral. If she felt his eyes on her, she didn’t show it, he noticed. Whatever the outcome of this ridiculous trial, he hoped he’d have a chance to get to know more about her.

  “It is incumbent upon those who wield great power and wealth to be fastidious in performing their civic duty,” Halloram began, his voice droning on slowly. “For what is the worth of law, if we cannot expect those in the highest positions to be held to the same standards as those beneath them.”

  At this statement, Jess noted that Claire recoiled, and he had to suppress a laugh. At least she found Halloram as ridiculous as he did. His attention returned to the judge, however, when he loudly said “Jess Hardy, who seems uninterested in the decisions of this c
ourt, might find this proceeding trivial, but as a horse rancher himself, he can certainly understand the grievous injury he, through his careless management of his stock, has caused to Ms. Robinson’s interests.

  “To help him better understand his true role in the community, I find for the plaintiff and order him to make full financial and physical restitution to Ms. Robinson and Heart’s Home. In addition to paying for the full cost of the repairs to the damaged fence and the medical bills to be incurred should the horse, Calliope, become pregnant, I also order him to provide Heart’s Home with a new barn, which Margy tells me it desperately needs.

  “In addition, he is to perform all repairs to the property himself to the satisfaction of Ms. Robinson or her proxy.” He banged his gavel and glared at Jess before exiting the chamber.

  Claire was stunned at the outcome, but she composed herself and shook her lawyer’s hand, then walked over to where Jess and Bill were discussing the verdict. She extended her hand first to Bill, then to Jess, saying, “I won’t hold you to the work requirements. Payment will be enough.”

  Jess held her hand a little longer than was necessary and looked straight into her eyes. “Oh, you don’t understand, ma’am. Judge Halloram is a stickler for the rules. He won’t rest until I’ve been over every square inch of the damage to your property, and I intend to be very thorough.”

  Those eyes of hers: he wanted to dive right into them, plumb their depths and find out who she was. The blush slowly creeping into her cheeks at his intense gaze told him that her mother might be right yet, and he slowly released her hand. “I’ll be over at 7 a.m. to start work, my lady,” he said. He tipped his hat to her mother and strode from the courtroom.

  Carmen walked over to Claire, who was now standing stock still in the middle of the courtroom. “Now you’ve done it,” she said. “I’m sleeping in tomorrow, so you make sure you’re up bright and early to make that man a proper cup of coffee.”

  Claire continued to stare at the courtroom door, not quite believing what had happened, but determined not to let it, or him, get the best of her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I will.”

  True to his word, Jess came knocking at her kitchen door at 7 a.m., and true to hers, Claire had coffee ready on the stove. She invited him in and motioned for him to sit at the table where he found a list of damages to be repaired, an estimate for the vet’s bill, and plans for a new barn, much larger than the one that currently stood on the property. He sighed as he looked over the paperwork and thanked her for the cup of coffee she brought over to the table.

  “I’ll be honest with you, ma’am. The repairs will take a day or two at the most, and I can do those all myself, but this barn job…”

  “I’ve already spoken to Halloram. He sure hates you, but he’s not entirely heartless. You’re allowed a crew to build it, but you have to work just as hard as they do.”

  Jess nodded in agreement. “Fair enough. I know just the guys, and I’ll pay for it all, right down to the good red paint that lasts for a century.” He grinned at her, hoping to see a bit of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Instead, he was met with stony silence. He stared awkwardly at the half-empty cup in his hand before drinking the contents down in one gulp.

  “So, guess I’d better get to work on that fencing.” He rose and placed the cup on the counter. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished,” he added, “so that you can check my work.” When she said nothing, he let himself out and headed toward the stables.

  Claire sat silently, her fingers circling the rim of the mug. Did she have to be so cold? The man was here as promised, ready to work and make good on the judge’s ruling, a ruling that she’d wanted. She was getting a new barn out of the deal, too, making her legal fees an even better investment than she’d thought they would be.

  She’d won, and everything was going to be made right, even if Calliope turned out to be in foal. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for the health of her mare before returning the mug to the kitchen and returning to the task of unpacking.

  Two hours later, she’d finished with the last box in her home office. She sat at the desk and swiveled the chair around to get a good look at her work. She’d repainted the walls a clean cream color. The furnishings were all dark wood, the seating covered in rich tan leather. She’d kept the original desk, a massive built-in that, with its accompanying bookcase and filing cabinets, took up an entire wall.

  On the wall opposite, she’d placed two deep leather chairs, a small table, and a lamp. Pictures of her horses were waiting to be hung when she found the time. For now, she was satisfied that the books were on the shelves and the files all properly in their drawers. The house had finally been wired for satellite service, so she was able to start setting up her internet presence.

  With the court case settled and her office space unpacked, she was finally starting to feel in control of her new home.

  Her favorite part of the office was a long low leather couch she had placed beneath a large picture window. From it, she could see the stables and the pasture, and she put comfortable pillows and a blanket on it as well, for the nights she knew she would spend there reading. While her mother had arranged nearly every room in the home to her personal satisfaction, this room alone was Claire’s in its entirety. She got a fresh cup of coffee from the kitchen and returned to sit on the couch.

  From the window, she could see an old red pickup truck sporting the Bar None symbol on its door. She wondered how Jess was getting on. The damage to the fence separating the properties was trivial, but he’d have to replace several large posts to fix Horatio’s work on the corral fencing.

  Once that was done, he’d have to turn his attention to the barn, and while she didn’t know much about the process, she imagined it would take at least a week to tear down the old one and another to frame up the new. Two weeks. She could handle having him around for two weeks.

  Of course, that would be just to frame the thing, she thought. All of the interior work would take longer, stretching the job well into the start of the summer months. Frustrated, she sank further into the sofa and tried to find some peace in the fact that once he’d started the work on the barn, he’d be far enough away from her activity at the stables. She could avoid him.

  She didn’t understand why she was still so angry, but she was angry at his persistent pertinence. He assumed too much, was too charming, and made too many familiar remarks for her comfort, and the way he looked at her at the trial: she’d tried to ignore it, but she’d felt the burn of his eyes on her skin while the judge read the verdict, only finding relief when Halloram had called him out by name.

  She could thank the judge for that, the verdict, and precious little else. The nerve of the old coot, implying that she was beneath his family! She’d ranted to her mother about it on the drive home, and Carmen agreed wholeheartedly.

  She heard the click of her mother’s heels on the hardwood floor in the front of the house, then the slam of a door and the sound of her car starting in the driveway. Curious, she went through the hallway to the kitchen, only to find a picnic basket sitting on the table with a note in Carmen’s careful looping hand.

  “Everybody’s got to eat, baby girl. I’ve made a nice lunch for you, Pauline, and that handsome gentleman. You’ll find the tea, sandwiches, and salad in the fridge. I told them you’d be bringing it down there around noon; I trust you won’t disappoint me. Taking the car to go into town for some new bath towels to replace those scraggly things you have. Home by suppertime.”

  Claire crumpled the note in her fist. Her towels were NOT scraggly, and she was perfectly capable of feeding herself. Her mother knew that Pauline brought her own lunch every day. She groaned in frustration; she and Carmen were going to have a talk about her manipulations and assumptions later tonight.

  Two hours to go before lunch. She kept herself busy in the house, first calling the vet to schedule an ultrasound the next week for Calliope. That settled, she set about labeling the shelves in the laundry r
oom, then turned her attention to folding the load of “scraggly towels” she washed the night before.

  By the time she put them away, it was ten minutes until noon. She changed into boots and jeans, put her hair up into a ponytail, packed the basket, and headed to the stables.

  Pauline was glad to see her, and thanked her profusely for the treat as she spread an old quilt on the grass near the stables and started to unpack the lunch. Claire went off in search of Jess.

  She went first to the fence along the creek dividing their properties, and noted that it was perfectly repaired and freshly painted. The man was clearly no slouch, and she appreciated the care he’d taken to replace the broken boards altogether, instead of just mending them.

  Next, she walked back over to the stable and she could see that he was nearly done there, too, having neatly replaced three of the four broken rails. The final one was propped up along the fence, ready to be put in as soon as he was done with lunch, she guessed. Good: the less time he spent there, the better.