Her Cowboy Dilemma. C.J. Carmichael

panned out. The little minx was trouble. And he intended to keep his distance.

      For the longest time she’d been nothing but the cute younger sister of his best friends B.J., Corb and Brock. With no siblings of his own, he hadn’t really minded when she tried to tag along with them—but Brock was always looking for ways to get rid of her.

      He said she talked too much. Which was true.

      He complained that she tried to boss them around. Also true.

      But she had redeeming characteristics, among them a soft, yet courageous heart. So many times she’d come to him and her brothers expecting them to help a baby chick that had fallen from its nest, a fawn struggling with a lame leg, a farm cat with distemper, eyes weeping from disease, matted fur over a scrawny body.

      Brock and Corb would brush her off, but he’d always done what he could to save the animal.

      And then Cassidy turned twenty-one and the person who needed saving was himself....

      An incoming call prevented him from dredging up further unwanted memories. He pressed the button on his steering wheel to patch it through.

      “Hello?”

      “Farley?” It was Liz Moffat, his right-hand woman at the office. Besides being his receptionist, the thirty-three-year-old mother of four also did a pretty good job of running his private life, as well. “I just had a call from Maddie Turner.”

      “I’m on my way to Coffee Creek Ranch right now.” The Lamberts’ place was only fifteen miles from Silver Creek Ranch. Maddie Turner and Olive Lambert were sisters, though they hadn’t spoken to one another in over thirty years.

      “When you’re finished there, could you swing by Maddie’s place? One of her cows is having a difficult birth.”

      “I’ll do that.”

      “Oh, and Amber wants to know about tonight. If you think you’ll be able to make it in time for a movie.”

      He wanted to say yes, but knew better. “Tell her probably not. I still have to check out the Harringtons’ lame cow.”

      “Maybe things will go well at Maddie’s and you’ll be able to do both.” Liz had fixed him up with Amber and was lobbying hard for the relationship to work.

      “Maybe.” But he doubted it. Maddie Turner didn’t have the head for business that her older sister did, and she’d been struggling financially for the past five years. She wouldn’t be asking for his help if the situation with her cow and unborn calf wasn’t dire.

      But first he had the situation at the Lamberts’ to deal with. And maybe another chance to see Cassidy?

      No. If she knew he was there, she’d avoid the barns, the way she usually did.

      * * *

      C ASSIDY WAS DRIVING about ten miles over the posted speed limit on the secondary road out of Coffee Creek. Plus, she was taking sips of her coffee. And nibbling on her cinnamon bun. So she couldn’t claim to be the injured party when she saw the flashing lights of a patrol car behind her five minutes after leaving town.

      She pulled to the side of the road, turned off her music and waited.

      Sun beat in warmly through the windshield and she could hear a meadowlark’s song drifting on the fragrant spring breeze that wafted through her open windows. Ahead of her the pavement curved and she tensed as she saw the flower wreath affixed to the simple white cross that marked the spot of the accident where Brock had died last July.

      She’d been so busy thinking about Farley—and feeling unjustly hurt at his obvious disdain for her—that she’d almost passed right by the scene of Brock’s accident without noticing.

      In her rearview mirror, she saw an officer step out of the patrol car. Her nervousness increased when she recognized Savannah Moody.

      The last time she’d seen Savannah had been at Brock’s funeral. Savannah hadn’t stayed long, but she’d paid her respects. Now Cassidy took a deep breath as the sheriff stooped so she could look in the open window.

      “Hey, Cassidy. On your way home from Bozie?” Savannah wore her long hair in a braid when she was on duty, but even without her thick chestnut hair framing her face, she was stunning. She’d been blessed with large, thickly lashed eyes and smooth olive skin that she’d inherited from her French Canadian mother.

      “Yes. Just finished my exams yesterday.”

      “I’m sure you’re anxious to get home, but slow down, okay? I’m not giving you a ticket this time. Just a friendly warning.”

      Her gaze shifted up the road a bit, and Cassidy knew what she was thinking. Knew, too, that the warning shouldn’t have been necessary.

      “You’re right. I’ll be a lot more careful in the future.” She studied the wreath again, noting that the flowers appeared fresh. “Is Maddie Turner still tending that?”

      Maddie was her mother’s estranged sister. No one in the family knew the whole story behind the family feud, but they’d all grown up understanding that their mother would consider it a grand betrayal if they acknowledged their aunt by so much as a smile or a word of hello.

      By the same token, none of them had understood why Maddie was being so diligent in tending Brock’s memorial tribute, until Corb took it upon himself to drive up to Silver Creek Ranch and ask her.

      Apparently Brock had been in the habit of visiting their aunt every now and then and had even helped her out with some handyman work on occasion.

      No one knew why he’d done this. But if any one of the Lambert kids was wont to break their parents’ rules, Brock was definitely the one.

      “I guess so.” Savannah patted the side of her truck. “I’m not a fan of roadside memorials, myself. Anything that draws your eyes off the road is a potential hazard.”

      “I’ll be careful,” Cassidy promised again.

      “Good. Say hi to your mom for me, Cassidy. And welcome home.”

      She was gone before Cassidy could tell her that this wasn’t a true homecoming. She was just going to stay a few weeks until she found out about the job she’d applied for in Billings. Her first interview had gone well. Now she was hoping for a second, soon to be followed by an offer of employment.

      Josh had applied to the same accounting firm, and he felt they both stood a good chance of being hired since their marks leading up to finals had been the top of their class. Competition was tight, though, since the accounting firm was only looking for three new articling students, and at least five other members of their graduating class had applied, including the woman who’d been president of the business club.

      Cassidy checked for traffic—and signs of wildlife—before pulling back onto the road. Savannah was long gone, having made a U-turn and driven off in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, Cassidy continued toward home, driving a sedate five miles per hour under the limit until she came to the fork in the road where she slowed down even further.

      To the right lay Silver Creek Ranch, where Maddie still lived on the Turners’ homestead property.

      The road to the left led to Coffee Creek Ranch, which had been in the Lambert family just as long as the Turners had owned theirs. Cassidy’s father had passed away years ago, and ever since then her mother, Olive, had been running the ranch—with the help of her youngest sons and Jackson. Her mother had a good head for business, and despite some ups and downs in the cattle business, she’d done very well.

      One of her strategies to combat the uncertain economic times had been to diversify into breeding American quarter horses. Now the horse breeding side of their business was bringing in as much revenue as the cattle. And even more profit, according to Jackson, who was in charge of the books.

      Now that she had her business degree, Cassidy suspected her mother was going to pressure her to take over the administrative side of the ranch