My Unexpected Hero (Cowboys of Sunnydale)

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Monday, April 4th LindsayNerves bounced around in my belly as I strode down the sidewalk of Main Street. I’d changed my mind a thousand times over the last couple of hours. My decision waffled between selling the place and getting a nice house in town for Mom and me or finding a husband to marry. I hadn't had a serious boyfriend in several years and I couldn't think of any guy friend that would marry me. I had an on-again-off-again relationship with Pete Thompson, but he was currently engaged to my new friend, Melanie Baker.

On the other hand, it killed me to even think about moving off my family's ranch. It had been in our family for generations. Not to mention, I grew up there. It was where I learned to ride horses, drive trucks, and spent time with Aunt Ida and Uncle Clarence, and Larry when he was alive. There were so many memories in the soil of the Wilson Ranch. Part of me hoped to be able to raise my family on that land, if I ever found a man that loved me for me. Sunnydale was small and I'd already dated all the eligible bachelors years ago.

My hand rested on the door handle. I knew I had to at least try to save my family's ranch. I didn't want to live anywhere else. I wanted to wake up to the old black rooster crowing and ride my ancient horse, Starburst, into the sunset. I had to try. I just had to. I took a big breath in and opened the door to Philips Law Office.

Mr. Philips looked up from reading the paper. His spectacles slid down to the end of his nose. He pushed it up with one finger and his eyes focused on me.

"Lindsay, my dear." He folded the paper, setting it aside. He stood up and walked around his desk. He clutched my hand in his and squeezed it. "I was hoping you would make a decision today."

He led me to the chair that I had sat in on Saturday. He settled into the chair across the desk from me. He took off his glasses and polished them on a handkerchief. Placing them back on his face, he focused his gaze on me.

"What did you decide?" He poised a pen over a piece of paper

I cleared my throat. "Actually, I've decided to...get married." Nerves rocked through me, but a certain level of peace settled in me. This was the right idea.

The pen tip pressed down on the piece of paper. A blue ink spot bled out over the white expanse. His mouth opened in surprise and then snapped shut. The pen dropped onto the desk with a clink. The large white cat stretched and yawned. His blue eyes surveyed us before circling in the sunspot and curling back up.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

I shook my head.

"Do you have a friend that would be interested in marrying you?" He leaned across the desk, watching me.

I shook my head, again. I stared at my cowboy boots. Heat rose up my neck and my ears caught on fire. "No. Not that I can think of."

"Lindsay...what are you going to do?" His voice was soft and understanding.

My eyes dragged up from the muddy toes of my boots to his steady gaze. "I don't know." My voice grew small. I hadn't thought the next part through. "I have fourteen days though to find someone, right?"

"Yes. Fourteen days from today."

He crumpled the piece of paper up and tossed it into the trash can. The wad of paper sailed through the air and bounced off the rim, landing on the floor. Opening a drawer, he pulled out another document. "Just sign this document. It outlines that you get the ranch if you are married in fourteen days from the reading of the will. If not, the ranch will be sold to the buyer." He slid the paper and a pen over to me to sign.

Pausing midway through my signature, I said, "there's really a buyer?"

Mr. Philips shifted in his seat and cast his eyes left and then right before clearing his throat. "Clarence had arranged the sale of the ranch before he died. The buyer will be there if you can't find a husband."

My stomach turned sour, and bile rose in my throat. I wrinkled my nose as I finished signing the paper. Anger, betrayal, and hurt fought for my attention. I knew that he was trying to take care of me and my mom, but it was painful that he didn't want me to have the ranch. A lone tear slipped down my cheek.

"Lindsay," Mr. Philips leaned in and said, "he thought the world of you. He wanted to care for the family he had left." He handed me a box of facial tissues. "It will all work out."

"I know." I wiped my tear and dabbed my eyes. "I better get looking for a husband." Grabbing my purse, I stood and turned to leave.

Through the glass in the door, the silhouette of a man filled the space. He opened the door. I stepped to the side to let him in, but he didn't move. A pair of Italian loafers edged into my view. I followed them up to fancy dress pants to a tailored suit jacket, sitting on broad muscular shoulders to a white shirt closed with a perfectly knotted tie. A faint five o'clock shadow colored his chin and led to a strong jaw, but not because he forgot to shave, more like a fashion statement. His hazel eyes watched me assess him and a smirk played on his lips. He held out his hand and I noticed his left hand was bare. For a moment, here was a man for me to talk into marriage, except the familiar way with which smirked, and mischief twinkled in his eyes. I studied him for another minute even though he kept his hand extended. I narrowed my eyes at him and was about to push past him when Mr. Philips cleared his voice. I rolled my eyes upward and stifled a groan. Shoving my hand into the man's, I attempted to have the quickest handshake in the history of western civilization.

He wrapped his other hand over mine, catching and curtailing my immediate plans for escape. His hands were large but soft and smooth. The nails were manicured without dirt or the hint of a hangnail present. A bit of jealousy overtook me for a minute. I wished my nails looked like that. Between the ranch and waitressing, I was constantly chipping them. That's why I had a standing manicure appointment every Monday.

"It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you." He drawled in the soft, sexy way Texan men have that melt us women folk. But that was not going to work on me. I straightened my shoulders and glared at him. He smiled some more and didn't release my hand.

"Oh, really. It’s only been a couple of days." I jerked my hand out of his and made for the door.

"Lindsay," Mr. Philips admonished.

The man’s eyes ran from my hair to my cowboy boots and back up. "I almost didn't recognize you on Saturday, except you’re driving the same old car that you had in high school."

"Well, why would you, Kurt Kisment?" I spat at him.

Fury rose within me as I locked eyes with my nemesis that made my life in high school miserable. Here was the one person in the world I hated. I wish my eyes could shoot ninja throwing stars into his man parts. Crossing my arms over my chest, I challenged him to make the next move.

"You have lost a lot of weight." He scratched the back of his neck.

"Thanks. But usually, men tell me I look beautiful. Or that I look sexy. Or anything other than, 'boy, Lindsay, you used to be a whale.' Thanks."

I spun on my heel and stalked to the door.

“Wait, why are you still here?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

He smirked at me, and his eyes did that twinkling thing they did. “I need advice from Mr. Philips.”

I shot one last glare at him and stalked out the door. It shut behind me with a satisfying click. I hated that guy. I couldn’t stand him. And it felt like I needed to take a hot shower to get the feeling out of my skin. I hadn't seen Kurt since he graduated with Cousin Larry. That was over a decade ago.

In fact, why was he still in town? Did he really think that I would believe him that he of all people needed advice from Mr. Philips? He was the top defense lawyer in Dallas. I highly doubted that. Mr. Philips did small town lawyer things like wills, estate planning, land transfers. Why was he really here?

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