Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(93)

“A feud, huh? Got any good-lookin’ women in this Hatfield and McCoy mix?” Sawyer asked.

“Dozens of them. And both sides want Fiddle Creek to get at the water rights, but I don’t reckon that would have to worry you none. You’d be working for Gladys if she hired you.”

“It’s something to think about. I’ll talk to her this week,” Sawyer said. “You like it here for real? Be honest with me.”

“Love it, and it would be nice to have an ornery old spy cousin around,” Finn said.

“Well, I have been lookin’ for a place to light for a while, and feuds don’t scare me none. They can fight, and I’ll stay out of it. Now tell me just how serious is it between you and Callie? Your mama said you mentioned marrying her. Is that true?”

Finn nodded. “It’s not like we just met, Sawyer. We’ve known each other for years.”

Martin poked his head into the room. “Granny Verdie sent me to tell y’all that there’s coffee made and cookies on the table and to ask if Sawyer has had dinner so she’ll know whether to stir up some real food.”

“Cookies and coffee is plenty,” Sawyer said. “And are you Ricky or Martin?”

“I’m Martin, but me and Ricky both have dark hair. Adam and Olivia are the blonds,” he said.

“I’ll have it all straight by tomorrow. You’ve got brown eyes like me and the rest of the kids have blue eyes. That’s one way to remember,” Sawyer said. “Now, if you’ll lead the way to those cookies, cowboy, I’d be obliged.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said.

***

Verdie grabbed Callie by the arm and hauled her into the kitchen. “I heard something in church this morning that I ain’t had time to tell you. Naomi Gallagher is pissed about the window stunt, and she’s declared full-fledged war on the Brennans. No more mice in the punch bowl or bullshit on Santa Claus.”

“Please tell me we’re not in the middle of it,” Callie whispered.

“Not if I can keep us away from it, but it’s fixin’ to get rough around here. Naomi ain’t been this mad since the Brennans rustled about a hundred head of cattle back in the fifties right after she married into the Gallaghers,” Verdie said. “But right now we got to make that handsome cowboy welcome.”

Finn and Sawyer pushed their way into the kitchen before Callie could say another word. It wasn’t hard to see the family resemblance between Sawyer and Finn. They had the same tall, muscular build, the same square jaw and full mouth, and they even had the same swagger. But Sawyer’s mother had to have some Latino in her for his skin to have that pretty permanent tan and those deep, dark brooding eyes. Or maybe he came from gypsy blood; whatever it was, it made for a damn fine-looking cowboy.

In Callie’s eyes, he wasn’t nearly as good-looking as Finn, and it didn’t take a genius to know that Sawyer had been sent to Burnt Boot to check her out. It was in his eyes when he scanned her out by the truck and again when he sat down at the kitchen table and the whole family gathered around it for a visit.

“Are you one of Finn’s cousins who went on the trail ride with him?” Martin asked. “He told us a little about it when we was cleaning horse stables.”

“Yes, I am. We went from north Texas all the way up across the whole state of Oklahoma and into Kansas to Dodge City. It was a real fun trip,” Sawyer said.

“Man, I wish I could do that someday, just sleep out under the stars and ride a horse all day,” Martin said wistfully.

“Horses! Get the rope. Hang the bastard,” Joe hollered.

Verdie pushed the platter of cookies toward Sawyer. “Meet Joe, our crazy parrot. We never know what’s going to come out of his mouth. What is it they say in Mexico—welcome to our crazy world? Well, this place is even crazier than what they’ve got south of the border. These kids are waiting for you to take the first cookie, but if I was you, I’d go ahead and get two. They’ve been shopping all afternoon, and even though they had ice cream on the way home, they’re probably starving again.”

Sawyer picked up two cookies and slid the platter back to the middle of the table. Four little sets of hands reached toward it.

“So you were Finn’s spotter. He talked about you on the trail drive.” Sawyer looked over at Callie.

“I was.” She nodded. “We planned to start target practice once a week, but we’ve been pretty busy here lately. Maybe after the holidays and the kids get back in school, we’ll get a schedule worked out for it. My spotter skills are rusty, but my aim is still pretty good with a pistol.”

Finn slipped his hand under the tablecloth and rested it on her knee. “She’s now my right hand again. Turns out she can tear down a tractor and put it back together just as well as she can spot for me in the desert. And I have to work to keep up with her on the morning workout.”

“Good God almighty! You don’t expect me to run and work out every morning, do you?”

“Good God almighty! Joe needs bourbon,” the bird yelled.

“Does he mimic everything?” Sawyer asked.

“Yes, and he’s smart enough to know how to use it,” Verdie said.

Martin picked up another cookie. “Us hired hands don’t have to work out. They won’t even let us target practice, but next year I’m askin’ Santa Claus for a BB gun, and I’m going to be as good of a shot as Callie when I grow up.”