My True Cowboy. Shelley Galloway

had noticed that drawl.

      “And, well, he’s rich as sin, too.”

      Though she was telling herself she couldn’t care less about that man, Susan couldn’t help but catch hold of Betsy’s latest tidbit. “He’s rich?”

      “Hell, yes! And we’re not talking rich like he-can-take-a-vacation-whenever-he-wants rich. We’re talking rich enough to-buy-himself-a-plane-and-pilot rich.” After a pause, Betsy said softly, “He’s rich enough to support a wife in the way she’d like to be accustomed to.”

      Though she was vaguely disturbed by Betsy’s words, Susan elected to ignore them. “Hmm,” she said simply. “I really had no idea.”

      “You still don’t. Sue, he’s Cal Riddell, as in the Riddell Ranch.”

      Betsy said that as if he was a celebrity or something. Well, she, for one, had never heard of the Riddells or their infamous ranch.

      Come to think of it, she wouldn’t shed a tear if she never heard of the place again. Choosing her words carefully, Susan said, “Actually … I wasn’t all that impressed with him.”

      “Get out.”

      “I’m serious. We shared a table in the cafeteria at the hospital when Hank was getting tests done. The whole time, rich Cal Riddell couldn’t have been ruder.”

      “That’s not like him. Usually, he hardly ever talks. It’s part of his charm, you know.”

      Susan wished he’d been a little more quietly charming. Though … “He was a little nicer when our paths crossed at the hospital today.”

      “See?”

      “He was nice until he insulted me.”

      “Uh-oh.”

      Though Susan realized she was ranting, she just kept on going. “Uh-oh is right. He’s the biggest jerk alive. I hope I never see him again.”

      “You ought to get those eyes of yours cleaned. He’s a catch and a half.”

      “Not for me. I certainly don’t want to catch him. I just want to stay out of his way.”

      “I bet you’ll feel differently about him once y’all dance. I’d feel all kinds of things for him if I pressed up against him real close.”

      Susan couldn’t imagine the man she’d met unbend enough to dance at all. She couldn’t even imagine trying to have a conversation with him in a bar! Nor did she ever want to try.

      So, if she couldn’t imagine any of that … why could she definitely imagine what it would feel like to be pressed up close to him?

      She cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, I won’t be dancing with anyone tonight. But you be sure and tell me how the party is.”

      Betsy looked her over and frowned. “Susan, you need to put yourself out there if you want to meet anyone.”

      “I know. And I have been meeting people. I’ve met a lot of people at work, you know.”

      “Doctors and old people don’t count.”

      Before Susan could dispute that, Betsy picked up her empty bottle and stood. “Well, I need to go shower and get cute.” Shaking her spiky red hair, she grinned. “This magic don’t happen on its own, you know.”

      “Have fun, Betsy.”

      With a little wave, her friend turned and disappeared through the hedge.

      And left Susan thinking about a long Friday night with nothing to do but sit and stew. And to wonder what it would be like to actually have money to spend on clubs and parties.

      And to wonder how her life might have been different if Hank’s dad had decided to stay.

       Chapter Four

      Sunday brought church and another hospital visit. As Cal held Ginny’s hand while she skipped down the hall, he prayed again for patience.

      Praying for patience was pretty much a constant thing now, though he wasn’t sure if anyone was actually listening to him. Lately, all he seemed to be doing was biting his tongue while everyone else gave him grief.

      Or told him their troubles. Or asked for more than he could give. Frankly, Cal had a feeling all his tolerance for the year had been used up sometime during the second week of January. From that point on, he’d been living on borrowed time.

      “We’re almost there, Junior,” Ginny announced, skipping along by his side on her tippy-toes. “We’re almost at Daddy’s door.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “When I see him, I’m going to give him a big hug.”

      “You know you can’t do that,” he warned. “He’s had surgery, remember?”

      “But you said he was better!”

      “His heart is, not his mood.” As Ginny struggled to digest that tidbit, Cal directed her over to the side of the hallway and knelt down on one knee. The last thing in the world he wanted was for Ginny to get her feelings hurt.

      And because their dad was in no condition to watch his mouth, Cal figured his little sister should be prepared for the worst. “Ginny, honey, I just want to warn you that Dad’s been in a bear of a mood. So, he might not be super happy to see us. You know what I mean?”

      “No. He’s always happy to see me.”

      She had a point there. If anyone could make the old man be almost companionable, it was his little sister. “He will be happy to see you, but he might forget to act like it.” Or tell her, Cal added grimly. Actually, that was probably putting it kindly. In the years since Cal’s mother passed away, his father had gradually lost whatever town polish he’d slapped on when he got rich and spent time in Dallas.

      With every passing month, Cal Sr. seemed to care less about offending people and more about saying what was on his mind.

      And there was always a lot on Dad’s mind. Nowadays, he didn’t watch his tongue in the best of situations. And when Dad was really in a mood, well, all bets were off that anything kind and sweet would pass through his lips.

      Chances were good that this was one of those days.

      When they started walking again, Ginny slipped her hand in Cal’s. “Junior?” she said with a tug.

      “Hmm?”

      “You’re frowning. Aren’t you happy to see me, too?”

      Taking a knee again, he pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m always happy to see you. Always.”

      She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his neck, the way she always did. “And Jarred and Trent, too?”

      “Of course. Sugar, Dad loves you, too. He’s just a grump sometimes.”

      “A grumpy Gus.”

      “Yep. Okay now, let’s go see how he’s doing,” he murmured when they finally got to their dad’s door.

      Slowly twisting the handle, he peeked in. “Dad?”

      Lying on the bed, looking beat-up and pissed off, Calvin Sr. glared his way. “I’m here. Where else would I be?”

      Cal matched his father’s glare with one of his own. “Ginny’s here with me. She wanted to come see you.” Cal made sure he put the emphasis on she, just so his dad would know that Cal’s patience was up and gone.

      Before he could give his father any additional warning glances, Ginny broke free from his hand and scampered in. “Hey, Daddy!” she hollered. Surely loud enough to wake the patients down the hall.

      Quickly Cal reached for her but was too late. “Gin—”