Cocky
In a
Cowboy hat
by
Em Petrova
Chapter One
Thirty-six-year-old divorcee buys horse ranch via silent auction. At least Liberty Baker hoped that would be the headline about her day.
She paused on the steps of the wide porch and looked at the other bidders already seated. Her nerves snapped, rubber bands being pulled taut and released to shock her into action. She stepped forward and slipped into one of the chairs lined up in pairs on the worn porch floor.
The man already sitting there glanced up from the auction catalog he was browsing. A quick peek at the page he stared at revealed he had an interest in the farm equipment up for auction. Good—she didn’t want any more competition than she might already have for this chunk of God’s beautiful green country in Crossroads, Georgia.
As a child, she visited the small town. Her grandpa bought her ice creams in the little shop that still stood on the corner, bearing a pink and white striped awning and a twenty-foot wooden cutout of a twist cone. Then they’d take a drive to see how many horses she could count in the fields.
If luck was on her side today, she’d have a horse ranch to call her own.
The man next to her didn’t appear to be a chit-chatter, thank goodness. Nothing sounded worse than telling someone she wasn’t able to focus on him during the auction because she was too keyed up.
Liberty clutched her fingers in her lap and looked ahead of her where a woman stood behind a card table. “We’re going to begin the auction now,” she announced.
A string seemed to yank inside Liberty’s stomach, making it both tight and loose at the same time. The organ wobbled like Jell-O at a country picnic.
Swallowing hard, she centered her attention on the auctioneer. Everything here on this foreclosed ranch, from the grain feeders to the tools left behind in the shed, was by silent bid in a sealed envelope. She wasn’t interested in those items—she was here for the property.
A bitter divorce battle against her ex, and a decade of being controlled by him before that, had given her the guts to be here today. Fighting Redding over household items such as the Cuisinart toaster and their joint CD collection had taught her to stand up for what she wanted, and right now, there was nothing she wanted more than this land.
The sign at the gates said Windswept Ranch. After sneaking onto the abandoned property to nose around, she understood how it earned the name. A constant breeze seemed to wash across the land and tickle everything in its path.
She raised a hand to fight back a tendril of hair that caught on that breeze now, and she tucked it behind her ear. The man beside her cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.
She studied him for a moment, taking note of how worn his jeans were and how faded his blue plaid shirt was. The edges of his cowboy hat appeared to be softened from touching it on the side she could see. But his boots cost enough to show where he put his money. A good, solid pair of boots was everything on a ranch.
He took up the entire chair, and only the legs sticking out the bottom were visible. As she looked on, he closed the catalog and tucked it into his breast pocket.
With a smile, the auctioneer looked over the crowd of about twelve people gathered on the porch. “Let’s start with the smalls, shall we? Lot number one is a leather saddle in good condition. Some wear.”
Beside the auctioneer, another woman had the sealed envelopes open and the winning bid on top. She passed this to the auctioneer, who read the number aloud. “Lot one goes to bidder number twelve for a hundred dollars.”
Bidder twelve smiled and nodded from a few seats in front of Liberty. She cut a glance sideways at the man next to her, wondering what number he was.
When she consulted the local real estate agent regarding the starting bid for the ranch, she felt confident she put in a competitive figure, on the higher edge of her budget, but life was all a risk, wasn’t it? It was time for her to start taking more of those.
She began by leaving Redding. Thank God that chapter of her life had finally ended. The divorce was final, and he couldn’t send his lawyer after her anymore for half of this or that.
As the auction went on to boxes full of horse tack and heat lamps for chickens, she let her mind wander over those fields. Soon her dream of raising horses would come true. Since she was a little girl and Grandpa Craig drove through this countryside, her dream was locked in.
At eight she received her first pony and riding lessons. At twelve she broke her leg and wondered if she’d ever ride again, but after she healed, she climbed on again and never looked back.
When it came to adulthood, her hopes of ranching vanished when she met Redding. The man disliked horses, looked down his nose at anything labeled country. But she liked the way he talked and the confidence of having brains—something her other boyfriends didn’t possess much of. He swept her up in his excitement of wanting her for a wife. And after the past year of therapy, she could declare that she was a soft touch, a people pleaser, and she rolled along with his proposal because she didn’t want to stop his dreams from coming true.
The man beside her glanced over, and she realized she’d issued a sigh at the dark turn her thoughts had taken. He offered her a tip of his lips as a friendly smile and returned his attention to the auction.
Three lots in a row went to the same man seated in the front. “Hot damn!” he exclaimed as they announced his number a third time, and everyone chuckled.
Redding would roll his eyes at such a reaction and language.
Get lost, Redding. I’m through giving you space in my thoughts.
An hour later, the auction arrived at the bigger items—tractors, mowers, a hay wagon. Technically, she’d need these things if she owned the ranch, and she wished she had the money to bid on it all. But her small inheritance from her Grandpa Craig’s recent passing would cover the ranch and a few extras to get her started on her dream.
She was doing this the bargain basement way, beginning with a ranch and little else, but she could rely on her research and knowledge of starting a business to see her through. After all, she’d helped Redding build his empire of computer stores throughout the South.
Go. Away. Dickhead.
She crossed her legs, and the man beside her glanced over at her movement. She offered him a polite smile reserved for strangers.
As the minutes ticked by, and the big-ticket items continued to be auctioned off, she saw him sit forward. His muscular shoulders tensed as he waited, obviously for something he bid on. When he let out a rough sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face, she knew he lost.
He sat back again.
“Tough break,” she said.
“Yeah. I really needed that tractor.”
The auctioneer lifted her head and looked at the small crowd. “The final item is the ranch. Two hundred and two acres of woodland and pasture. Water and mineral rights. The house, barn and two sheds are all part of this lot. And now for the bids.”
A dramatic pause followed, and Liberty sat forward, elbows on knees and heels bouncing with nerves. The man next to her gave her an appraising look but said nothing.
Liberty might puke. Or jump up and scream. No—she’d do that when they called her number as the highest bidder. She’d have the real estate agent to thank for her guidance, of course. A fruit basket was in order, along with a handwritten note.