Not Your Average Cowboy. Christine Wenger

beige cat with only one eye, and remembered a similar cat. Hers. She’d called it Bonita, and she had been a Christmas gift from Pamela, their housekeeper and cook, because her parents wouldn’t let her have the real thing, no matter how much she begged or no matter how good she was.

      Merry had cried many times into Bonita’s gray fur. Once, she remembered coming home to find Bonita missing. She looked all over the house, sobbing. Finally, her mother had ordered her to stop crying and told her she was too old to play with a stuffed cat.

      Merry had been inconsolable. She knew in her heart that her mother had thrown Bonita away. The cat had become too dirty and too worn to be a resident of the Beacon Hill house any longer.

      She returned the cat to its exact place and chuckled as she remembered how she’d rescued Bonita from the trash can in the alleyway in the dead of night.

      She’d hid Bonita from her parents from then on. Currently, her childhood confidant, lovingly mended and with additional stuffing, rested on an antique rocking chair in the bedroom of her condo.

      She looked at all of the various cowboy and Indian artifacts that were displayed in the room. Each piece was a work of art and seemed to be positioned perfectly.

      If all the guestrooms looked like this, and with the media blitz that Merry had planned, the phone would soon be ringing off the hook with people making reservations for the Rattlesnake Dude Ranch.

      Gingerly, she sat down at the edge of the bed, and bent back to study the twisted canopy of branches over her head. She imagined Buck lounging on the bed, wearing nothing but his hat, holding out his hand for her to join him there.

      Suddenly feeling warm and jittery, she jumped up and walked over to the huge windows lining the three walls. She could see the corral and the barn and the setting sun, which was just about to disappear in a blaze of orange and yellow behind the craggy mountain that seemed close enough to touch.

      She noticed Caitlin pressed against the barn, covertly watching her father brush Bandit. Buck must have spotted the girl because he set the horse’s brush on a post, and walked over toward Caitlin, smiling. But instead of staying to talk to him, she ran away.

      Through the open window, she could hear him call to her. “Caitlin. Cait.” She could hear the anguish in his voice, see him shake his head and kick the dirt with a booted foot.

      The girl was running fast, down past the barn, until she vanished behind another outbuilding.

      He turned back to Bandit. As he petted the horse’s neck, she heard the deep rich tones of Buck’s voice. Although she couldn’t make out his words, Bandit nodded as if he understood what Buck was saying to him.

      She’d always heard that a cowboy’s horse was his best friend. Now she believed it.

      As she was about to get ready, she saw Karen blazing a quick trail to Buck. Angry words floated on the air, and Merry wondered what they were fighting about, not that it was any of her business. She knew that Karen was close to all her siblings, and they shared exactly what was on their minds. That was one of the things that Merry had always envied, the fact that Karen had a large, close family and they all cared for one another.

      An only child, Merry had been nothing but lonely.

      As if Buck and Karen sensed her presence, they both turned and stared. Startled, she backed away from the window, but not before she saw Buck shake his head and Karen cover her mouth with her hand as they noticed her watching them.

      With a sinking feeling, she turned away, opened her suitcase and changed into a pair of expensive new jeans she’d just bought, and a peach blouse that felt silky against her skin.

      Karen would tease her unmercifully when she saw her in designer ranch clothes. Merry smiled. She hadn’t been teased in a long time, and she needed it.

      A gray cloud intruded on her light mood as she thought of the scene she’d just witnessed between brother and sister. She already knew that Buck didn’t particularly want her here, but why? Surely, he wanted the Rattlesnake Ranch to generate a big profit. Didn’t he?

      Well, that was the reason she was here. It would be an added bonus if she could get a little rest and relaxation. She needed it desperately. And maybe she could think about how to get a handle on her own business. It was getting too hard to manage with all the culinary products she’d been venturing into—pots and pan, a line of spices, stainless steel utensils, synthetic bakeware and heaven knows what else.

      It seemed that lately everyone wanted a piece of her.

      Merry let her hand glide over the exquisite bureau one more time and glanced over her shoulder at the incredible tree bed. Then she closed the door behind her and went to find Karen.

      She needed to know what was going on before she decided whether or not to unpack.

      Chapter Three

      Merry leaned against the rounded archway to the kitchen and studied her friend. “So tell me what progress you’ve made on the dude ranch idea, and tell me what’s going on with your brother, not necessarily in that order.”

      “I never could keep anything from you.” Karen smiled as she set plates, mugs and bowls on a thick pine table.

      Merry walked over to the table, picked up a plate and studied the artwork. A sketch of a cowboy galloping his horse and roping a calf was centered in the middle. Under the drawing were two Rs back-to-back with a wavy line under them.

      “That’s our brand,” Karen said. “And that’s my father roping that steer. My mother drew it and had the plates made years ago.”

      Merry thought about the time and trouble Karen’s mother had expended to make such a personal gift that meant something to the whole family. It was in stark contrast to the very expensive, very bland, English bone china with the gold-leaf border of the Turner family.

      “You know, Karen, I think that if you get mugs made up in this pattern, your guests would buy them for souvenirs. Have you thought of a gift shop? It would be perfect in a corner of the lobby—I mean the living room.”

      Karen ladled clam chowder into bowls and the steamy soup scented the air. “Before we discuss the dude ranch, I have something to tell you.”

      Merry noticed that her friend’s face was somber. Whatever she was going to say wasn’t good news. Merry put the plate down, pulled out a chair and sat down.

      “I just took a call from my doctor. I have to have my gallbladder out in three days.”

      Merry reached for her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “I didn’t know you were having trouble. You never said anything.”

      Karen took a deep breath. “It’s all so sudden—the surgery, I mean. But I’ve been having pain for a long time now. And it’s getting worse. It was selfish of me not to call you and tell you to postpone your trip, but I wanted you here. I couldn’t leave the ranch in such a state of flux, especially when we’re hoping to have our first guests in a few months. I didn’t want to call Louise. Her bar exam is this week and—”

      Merry took a deep breath. Already her brain was listing things she needed to do. Where was her notebook?

      “Leave your sister where she is, and don’t worry about a thing. Meredith Bingham Turner, the Goddess of Hospitality, is on the scene,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “How long will you be in the hospital? Are you having laser surgery?” Merry knew that laser surgery had a quicker recovery time.

      “No such luck. They have to take it out the old-fashioned way. They think I’ll have to stay in the hospital about four or five days.”

      Merry bit back her disappointment. She’d been looking forward to spending a lot of time with Karen, just like the old days when they were living at the dorm.

      Well, she could still have the long talks. Merry would just have to visit Karen in the hospital.

      “There’s something else.”