ISBN: 978-1-4603-1442-5
Lonesome Cowboy
Copyright © 1998 by Debbie Macomber
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Texas Two-Step
New York Times Bestselling Author
Debbie Macomber
Everyone in Promise thinks Savannah Weston is an old-fashioned kind of woman, quietly content to stay on the family ranch with her brother Grady. But Savannah has her passions—for the old roses she loves to grow, for the children she hopes to have. And for a man named Laredo Smith. He's a stranger to Promise, a disenchanted cowboy who may just change Savannah's life.
Look for more heartwarming titles from New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber, available now from Harlequin MIRA!
Other titles by Debbie Macomber now available wherever Harlequin ebooks are sold:
Blossom Street Books
The Shop on Blossom Street
A Good Yarn
Susannah’s Garden
Back on Blossom Street
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannah’s List
The Knitting Diaries: “The Twenty-First Wish”
A Turn in the Road
Cedar Cove Books
16 Lighthouse Road
204 Rosewood Lane
311 Pelican Court
44 Cranberry Point
50 Harbor Street
6 Rainier Drive
74 Seaside Avenue
8 Sandpiper Way
92 Pacific Boulevard
1022 Evergreen Place
A Cedar Cove Christmas (5-B Poppy Lane and Christmas in Cedar Cove)
1105 Yakima Street
1225 Christmas Tree Lane
Dakota Series
Dakota Born
Dakota Home
Always Dakota
The Manning Family
The Manning Sisters
The Manning Brides
The Manning Grooms
Christmas Books
A Gift to Last
On a Snowy Night
Home for the Holidays
Glad Tidings
Christmas Wishes
Small Town Christmas
When Christmas Comes (now retitled Trading Christmas)
There’s Something About Christmas
Christmas Letters
Where Angels Go
The Perfect Christmas
Angels at Christmas (Those Christmas Angels and Where Angels Go)
Call Me Mrs. Miracle
Heart of Texas Series
VOLUME 1 (Lonesome Cowboy and Texas Two-Step)
VOLUME 2 (Caroline’s Child and Dr. Texas)
VOLUME 3 (Nell’s Cowboy and Lone Star Baby)
Promise, Texas
Return to Promise
Midnight Sons
VOLUME 1 (Brides for Brothers and The Marriage Risk)
VOLUME 2 (Daddy’s Little Helper and Because of the Baby)
VOLUME 3 (Falling for Him, Ending in Marriage and Midnight Sons and Daughters)
This Matter of Marriage
Montana
Thursdays at Eight
Between Friends
Changing Habits
Married in Seattle (First Comes Marriage and Wanted: Perfect Partner)
Right Next Door (Father’s Day and The Courtship of Carol Sommars)
The Man You’ll Marry (The First Man You Meet and The Man You’ll Marry)
Orchard Valley Grooms (Valerie and Stephanie)
Orchard Valley Brides (Norah and Lone Star Lovin’ )
The Sooner the Better
An Engagement in Seattle (Groom Wanted and Bride Wanted)
Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove Cookbook
Debbie Macomber’s Christmas Cookbook
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
One
A month ago this had been her family home.
Ellie Frasier stood on the tree-lined sidewalk in Promise, Texas, staring up at the traditional two-story house with its white picket fence. The Sold sign stared back at her, telling her that nothing would ever be the same again. Her father was dead, and her mother gone.
This was the house where she’d been born and raised. Where she’d raced across the front lawn, climbed the pecan tree and hung upside down from its branches. On that very porch she’d been kissed for the first time.
Oh, how she’d miss that porch. Countless pictures had been taken of her on these steps. Her mother holding an infant Ellie in her arms the day she brought her home from the hospital in Brewster. Every Easter in a frilly new dress and every Halloween in a costume her mother had sewn for her.
The day Ellie turned thirteen and wore panty hose for the first time, her dad had insisted she have her picture taken on the porch. Then at eighteen, when she was a rodeo princess for the Brewster Labor Day Festival, her father had posed her on the front steps again. At the time he’d told her he’d be taking her picture there in her wedding dress before she left for the church.
Only, her father would never escort her down the aisle.
The rush of pain came as no surprise. She’d been dealing with it for weeks now. And before that, too, while he was in the hospital, desperately ill. But Ellie couldn’t believe he would actually die; death was something that happened to other people’s fathers, not her own. Not yet. He was too young, too vital, too special, and because she’d refused to accept the inevitable, his passing had hit her hard, throwing her emotionally off balance.
Even then, she’d been forced to hold her grief inside. Her mother had needed her to be strong. Ellie’s personality was like her father’s—forceful, independent and stubborn. Her mother, on the other hand, was fragile and rather impractical, relying on her husband to look after things. She’d been unable to deal with the funeral arrangements or any of the other tasks that accompany death, so they’d fallen on Ellie’s shoulders.
The weeks that followed were like an earthquake, and the aftershocks continued to jolt Ellie, often when she least expected it.
Her mother had given her the worst shock. Within a week of the burial service, Pam Frasier announced she was moving to Chicago to live with her sister. Almost immediately the only
home Ellie had ever known was put up for sale. By the end of the first week they’d had an offer.
Once the deal was finalized, her mother packed up all her belongings, hired a moving company, and before Ellie could fully appreciate what was happening, she was gone. Whatever she’d left behind, Pam told her daughter, was Ellie’s to keep. The family business, too. Pam wanted nothing from the feed store. John had always intended it to go to Ellie.
Squaring her shoulders, Ellie realized there was no use delaying the inevitable. The key seemed to burn her hand as she approached the house for the last time and walked slowly up the five wooden steps. She stood there for a moment, then forced herself to unlock the front door.
A large stack of boxes awaited her. Ellie had a fair idea of what was inside. Memories. Years and years of memories.
No point in worrying about it now. Once she’d loaded everything up and carted it to her rented house, she had to get to the feed store. While her customers had been understanding, she couldn’t expect unlimited patience. George Tucker, her assistant—he’d been her father’s assistant, too—was trustworthy and reliable. But responsibility for Frasier Feed was Ellie’s, and she couldn’t forget that.
Which meant she couldn’t take the time to grieve properly. Not when she was short-staffed during the busiest season of the year. June brought with it a flurry of activity on the neighboring cattle ranches, and many of those ranchers would be looking to her for their feed and supplies.
By the third trip out to her truck Ellie regretted turning down Glen’s offer of help. Glen Patterson was quite possibly the best friend she’d ever had. Although she’d always known who Glen was—in a town the size of Promise, everyone knew everyone else, at least by sight—there was just enough difference in their ages to keep them in separate social circles during their school years.
The Pattersons had been buying their feed from Frasier’s for years. Her father and Glen’s dad had played high school football together. For the past few years Glen had been the one coming to town for supplies. When Ellie began to work full-time with her dad, she’d quickly developed a chatty teasing relationship with Glen.
She was lighthearted and quick-witted, and Glen shared her sense of humor. Before long she’d found herself looking forward to their verbal exchanges. These days whenever he stopped by, Ellie joined him for a cup of coffee. They usually sat on the bench in front of her store, idling away fifteen or twenty minutes, depending on how busy she was. When the weather discouraged outdoor breaks, they sat in her office to enjoy a few minutes’ respite.
It got to be that they could talk about anything. She appreciated his wry good sense, his down-to-earth approach to life. Ellie tended to obsess about problems, but Glen took them in stride. While she ranted and raved, he’d lean his chair against the building wall and tuck his hands behind his head, quietly listening. Then he’d point out some error in her thinking, some incorrect assumption or faulty conclusion. Generally he was right. His favorite expression was, “Don’t confuse activity with progress.” She could almost hear him saying it now.
It’d been a week or more since his last visit, and Ellie missed him. She could count on Glen to distract her, make her smile. Perhaps even ease this gnawing pain. But when he’d offered to help her sort through the boxes, she’d declined, moving everything on her own. Knowing she’d have to face these memories sooner or later and preferring to do it alone.
Within minutes of her arrival at the feed store, the place was bustling. Naturally she was grateful for the business, but she would have liked a few moments to herself. Then again, perhaps it was best to be hurled into the thick of things, with no chance to dwell on her grief and all the changes taking place in her life.
It was almost two before Ellie could dash into her office for ten minutes, to collect her thoughts and have lunch. Although her appetite was nonexistent, she forced herself to eat half a sandwich and an apple. At her desk, she sifted through the phone messages and found one from Glen. It was unusual for him to call during the day, especially in early summer when he spent most of his time working with the herd. Just knowing she’d been in his thoughts buoyed her spirits.
Since his parents had moved into town and opened the local bed-and-breakfast, Glen and his older brother, Cal, had taken over management of the ranch. Thus far they’d kept the spread operating in the black, doing whatever work they could themselves and hiring seasonal help when necessary. In the last few years, they’d begun crossbreeding their cattle with Grady Weston’s stock.
The phone rang and, thinking it might be Glen, Ellie reached eagerly for the receiver. “Frasier Feed.”
“Ellie, I’m glad you answered. It’s Richard Weston.”
If it couldn’t be Glen, then Ellie felt pleased it was Richard. He’d recently returned to Promise after a six-year absence, and they’d gone out on a couple of dates before her father’s condition worsened.
“How are you?” Richard asked in a concerned voice.
“Fine,” she responded automatically, which was easier than confessing the truth. She just couldn’t talk about her grief, her deep sense of loss. Maybe Glen was the only person she could share that with, Ellie reflected. But not yet. It was too soon. For now, she needed to forge ahead and do what was necessary to get through the day.
“You’ve been on my mind a lot the last couple of weeks.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Richard, I really do.” Ellie was sincere about that. She’d been a schoolgirl when he left Promise, and like every other female in her class she’d had a major crush on him. Richard was still the best-looking man in town. The years away had refined his features, and he was suave in ways ranchers could never be. City-suave. She liked him well enough but didn’t expect anything from their friendship. To be frank, she was flattered that he sought her out. The huge flower arrangement he’d sent for her father’s funeral had touched her, it was the largest one there and stood out among the other smaller arrangements. A number of the townsfolk had commented on it.
“I received the thank-you card,” he said. “The flowers were the least I could do.”
“I wanted you to know how much Mom and I appreciated it.” She paused. “It was nice of you to do that for us.”
“I’d like to do more, if you’d let me,” he said softly. “If there’s anything you need, make sure you phone.”
“I will.” But it was unlikely she’d take him up on his offer. Not even Glen, her best friend, knew how emotionally shaky she was. The pain was still so new, so raw, that she had to deal with it herself before she could lean on anyone else. Her father had been like that, too, and she was, after all, her father’s daughter.
“You know, Ellie,” Richard said next, “I think it’d do you a world of good to get out.”
A date? Now? No way. Ellie wasn’t ready, and besides, she had a million things to do before she gave a thought to her social life. She was about to tell him that when he spoke again.
“Nell Bishop called to tell us she’s having a birthday bash for Ruth this Friday night. Sounds like she’s going all out. How would you feel about tagging along with me?”
Ellie hesitated.
“You need to relax a little. Have a few laughs,” he added with the same empathy he’d shown earlier. “Let me help you through this.”
Ellie had received an invitation herself. Attending a party was the last thing she felt like doing, but Nell was a good friend and a good customer. She needed to make at least a token appearance.
“I probably won’t stay long,” she qualified, thinking it would be best if Richard went without her. They could meet there.
“No problem,” Richard quickly assured her. “I’m not much into this birthday thing myself. The only reason I told Nell I’d come was so I could ask you.”
“Oh, Richard, that’s so sweet.”
“Hey, that’s just t
he kind of guy I am.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind leaving early, I’d be happy to go with you.” Ellie had always been fond of Ruth Bishop. She knew that Ruth and Nell had supported each other through the trauma of Jake’s death. Nell had lost the love of her life; Ruth had lost her son. Nell had struggled to hold on to the ranch despite numerous hardships, financial and otherwise. Ruth had been a wonderful help, and Ellie was sure Nell had planned this party as a means of thanking her mother-in-law.
“I’ll swing by your place around six,” Richard suggested.
“Six would be perfect.” They chatted a couple of minutes longer, and as she hung up the phone, Ellie realized she was actually looking forward to an evening out. It would feel good to laugh again, and Richard was always entertaining.
***
The sun beat down on Glen Patterson. He and his brother were on horseback, driving almost four hundred head of cattle to one of the far pastures. With two hired hands, seasonal help, they’d shuffled all the cattle through narrow chutes, vaccinating them.
Removing his Stetson, he wiped his brow, then glanced quickly at his watch. Ellie had been in his thoughts most of the day. He shouldn’t have listened to her protests; he should’ve stopped at her parents’ house that morning despite everything. Ellie could use a helping hand, whether she was willing to admit it or not. The woman was just too damn stubborn.
In his view she’d declined his offer mostly out of pride. He wondered if she felt mourning should be done in private, and he wanted to tell her she didn’t have to hide her grief, that it was okay to accept an offer of help. She didn’t have to do everything herself. He knew it had all been a brave front, but he didn’t have much choice other than to accept her decision.