Where Love Lives
WHERE LOVE LIVES:
The Inheritance
Wyoming Wildflowers series
Book 8
Patricia McLinn
Wyoming Wildflowers series
Wyoming Wildflowers: The Beginning (prequel)
Almost a Bride
Match Made in Wyoming
My Heart Remembers
A New World (prequel to Jack’s Heart)
Jack’s Heart
Rodeo Nights (prequel to Where Love Lives)
Where Love Lives
A Cowboy Wedding
Making Christmas
More romance by Patricia McLinn
Bardville, Wyoming series
A Stranger in the Family
A Stranger to Love
The Rancher Meets His Match
A Place Called Home series
Lost and Found Groom
At the Heart’s Command
Hidden in a Heartbeat
Seasons in a Small Town
What Are Friends For? (Spring)
The Right Brother (Summer)
Falling for Her (Autumn)
Warm Front (Winter)
The Wedding Series
Marry Me series
The Games
Copyright © 2016 Patricia McLinn
eBook ISBN: 978-1-939215-55-0
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-939215-63-5
EPUB Edition
Also available in print
www.PatriciaMcLinn.com
*
Dear Readers: If you encounter typos or errors in this book, please send them to me at Patricia@patriciamclinn.com. Even with many layers of editing, mistakes can slip through, alas. But, together, we can eradicate the nasty nuisances. Thank you! — Patricia McLinn
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Wyoming Wildflowers series
Also by Patricia McLinn
Who’s Who in the Wyoming Wildflowers series
About the Author
Layton, Felder, Bach & Moore
Attorneys-at-Law
58 East 42nd Street, Suite 1800
New York, New York 10016
Matt Halderman
683 Sage Ave.
Park, Wyoming, 82822
Dear Mr. Halderman,
I am acting as the executor of the estate of Mr. Harold Hopewell, whose Last Will and Testament was entered into probate in the Surrogate’s Court, New York County, State of New York. I write to inform you of certain assets bequeathed to you pursuant to Mr. Hopewell’s Last Will and Testament, to wit:
A sum of money to execute the goal you discussed at your first meeting and which he urged you to pursue.
I have enclosed a check for the full amount as well as an envelope Mr. Harold Hopewell instructed should be conveyed to you.
Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions.
Regards,
Frederick Bach, Esquire
CHAPTER ONE
“Did ya hear who’s in town, Doc?”
Sometimes it took Zoe Parisi half a beat to realize “Doc” meant her.
She hadn’t had that issue until she’d returned to Knighton, Wyoming, where “Doc” had meant Doc Johnson for as long as she could remember.
“No. Who?” she asked Earl Krenetz. What she really wanted to ask was how he’d heard anything about anybody, since this was his first trip to town in weeks.
He’d refused hospitalization for pneumonia, so until today she’d regularly trekked to his cabin, which clung to its mountain like one of those improbable trees springing from a rock crevice. She wouldn’t miss that trip. From the clouds wrapping around the mountains it was snowing up there today, though it had only sleeted earlier today in Knighton.
Ah, Wyoming in April.
“Course, back in town’s a figure of speech. Not in town at all.” He laughed. Moving quickly, she caught another listen through the stethoscope, but then he picked up talking. “Getting things squared away on the place. Fencing first, which shows sense. Barn’ll need a good bit of work. House, maybe.”
Zoe wasn’t surprised by Earl’s priorities. A devotee of HGTV he was not.
“Used to come through now and then. But that ended a good while back and it hasn’t been since … well, I don’t know. Not precise. Hmmm, wonder when…”
If Earl fell into trying to figure “when,” this conversation might never end.
Because “when” might hinge on its relationship to the year there’d been only two cuttings of hay, both bad, or the year after a dozen head died for no reason anyone ever did find, despite numerous efforts (each recounted in detail.) Or was it the year before? Could’ve been, but for sure it was after Gladys had twin calves, which ended up first and second at the county fair, though was it one or two years after?
“Who’s in town?” she asked in a valiant effort to turn Earl’s attention from “when.”
No such luck.
“Long before the big change. Up and down for that family, that’s for sure. Let’s see … their people came into the county about 1890,” he said as if he’d been here to see it.
Zoe got comfortable on the rollable stool. There would be no hurrying this. Her mind wandered to her schedule for the rest of the day as Earl recounted the end of the Nineteenth Century and the entirety of the Twentieth. He’d finally reached this century when she tuned back in.
“Couldn’t have been easy seeing the family place after. That might be why he stopped coming back. Course that was after his mama married that Cartwright fella from Colorado.”
A voice — his voice — came into her head.
She married this ass named Cartwright from Denver. Did she really remember that? No. Had to be her imagination, not her memory. No reason that would stick with her for years. Not when she hadn’t let the rest of it stick with her.
That night…
That one night…
“And then he hit it big.” Earl chuckled. “Not the way he’d hoped as a young’un, of course, but with a whole lot fewer broken bones I’d wager.”
Zoe shifted from a tickle at the back of her neck. It wasn’t the kind of tickle that made her want to laugh.
There was no reason on earth he’d be in Knighton. She’d made absolutely sure before she’d—
“Who?”
Earl blinked at her no-fooling around demand. “Matt Halderman. Who else would I be talkin’ about? Grew up on the H Bar H Ranch up the highway like I’m telling you. Not far from the spread Taylor and Cal Ruskoff have. Malloys have the H Bar H now, but it was the Haldermans’ for generations. Young Matt started rodeoing as a boy here. Though it wasn’t his ridin’ that’s made him rich. Story I heard is—”
 
; But Zoe didn’t want to hear this story or any story concerning Matt Halderman. She wanted the answer to one question: “Why? Why is he here?”
No, make that two questions, but she wasn’t going to ask Earl how soon before Matt Halderman left.
“What do you mean, why, Doc? He’s come home is why.”
*
Doc Johnson looked up as Zoe entered the clinic’s sole office.
He came in part-time now, but she’d insisted he keep the big old desk he loved. She had a smaller one in a corner.
“We lost that physician’s assistant recruit to Denver,” he announced immediately.
They’d been trying to hire a physician’s assistant or a nurse practitioner or both for the clinic with no success.
“The money or the isolation?”
“Both. How’s Earl?” he asked.
“Better. Good progress. You should be able to pull up his chart.”
Doc used one finger to type in the name. He wasn’t speedy, but he was sure. “No matter how he is, you’re not taking any more trips up that mountain of his, you understand?”
“With the telemedicine program, I wouldn’t have to.”
“Hah. You don’t have to win me over to that program, but don’t try to fool me. You’d still be going up. When your grandmother told me what you’d been doing, taking him groceries and … Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yup.” The chart had distracted him from that well-worn discussion. “Looks like he’s over that pneumonia for sure. I figured that when I heard him in the waiting room talking nineteen to a dozen about Matt Halderman being in town.”
“Just passing through?” She tried to keep hope out of her voice.
“Not from what I hear. Bought a piece of the H Bar H. I’d imagine he wanted the whole thing.
He had.
She didn’t say that aloud, giving only a noncommittal hmm.
“Malloys must be settled in good there because he sure could pay top dollar nowadays. Hometown boy makes good. You know the story, don’t you?” Like Earl, Doc needed no encouragement. “He was still on the rodeo circuit, then one night he starts talking to this fella in a truck stop. Turns out the guy’s a billionaire. Can you imagine that? By lunch the billionaire plunked down the money right then and there to bring out this travel app Matt created. Guess it was all that traveling from rodeo to rodeo that gave him the idea. Been doing real well from everything you hear.”
Zoe had done her best not to hear. Not everything, not anything when it came to Matt Halderman. She’d made it a practice, like brushing her teeth or washing her hands. It had served her well for years.
Until now, perhaps.
“Few years go by, with Matt building that company of his and then the billionaire dies,” Doc Johnson said. “He left Matt money in his will.”
Why couldn’t this unknown billionaire have left the money to her? Or to Doc? Or to any of another half dozen people in Knighton who’d immediately fund their participation in the telemedicine program. Not only would it benefit so many people in Lewis and Clark counties, but if the billionaire had left the money to them, he wouldn’t have left it to Matt Halderman and he wouldn’t have come back to Knighton. Talk about a win-win.
“Nobody says how much,” Doc went on, unaware of her dark thoughts about the ways of billionaires, “but it must have been a good amount, because Matt turns around and buys up that land like I told you. Taylor’s been acting for him. Dave for the Malloys.”
Taylor Anne Larsen Ruskoff was one of Knighton’s two lawyers. Zoe’s grandmother commanded the office of the other lawyer in town — Dave Currick.
“Remember Matt as a boy, always pushing the limits — had him here regular with injuries,” Doc Johnson said.
Growing up, Zoe had spent summers and holidays with her grandparents in Knighton. She had often been an anonymous face in the awed audience of kids for those limit-pushing episodes. Some successful, some not.
“But not crazy foolish. Never that kind of wild. Not until his dad died. Then … Especially when his mother and that second husband of hers took him off to Montana.” Doc shook his head. “All kinds of trouble he got into.”
Phil Halderman had died when Zoe wasn’t in Knighton. By her next visit, Matt, his mother, and her new husband were gone.
She hadn’t seen Matt for years.
Until that night…
Doc Johnson chuckled. “Took rodeo to calm him down. Why, I remember one time…”
CHAPTER TWO
Matt sat in the lawyer’s office, listening to a rundown on work completed on the property he’d named Pegasus Ranch.
“The men you hired did a good job on the fences,” Taylor Anne Larsen said.
He’d put out a call for hard-working rodeo cowboys needing to earn a stake to get back on the circuit. They were highly motivated.
“They spoke highly of both of you, too.” He looked at Taylor, the lawyer who’d handled arrangements. Then to her husband, Cal Ruskoff, who’d overseen the work. “Appreciate all you did. What you both did.”
“Fences are good and solid now,” Cal said. “Wouldn’t say the same for the barn.”
“That’ll come. I also appreciate your coming to town today so this could all be done at once, Cal. Less time I spend in town, less talk there will be.”
“You have been away from Knighton for a long time,” Taylor said with a small smile as she put another paper in front of him to sign.
“Oh, I remember well enough to guess eighty percent of the town knew my business before I’d brought my truck to a full stop outside your office.”
At least some of his business. Not even his lawyer knew the plan for the next phase. He’d kept that close to the vest. He’d learned that from the best in rodeo, Walker Riley. “Poker and life, only show your cards to folks you’re sure are on your side and going to stay there.”
Taylor swapped out the signed paper for another form. Then another and another.
He’d gone through these beforehand, working out details back and forth through calls, emails, texts, and such. Communications at the ranch would be rudimentary for a while, so better to do the signing in person.
He checked the time. They’d be pulling in soon.
“What’s that you’re humming?” Taylor asked.
His signing hand paused. “Old song called ‘Where Love Lives.’ Friend of mine arranged so it played a lot while I was driving here.” By making an entire playlist that one song. Over and over it played. Kalli Evans Riley had a way of making her point even when she wasn’t standing in front of him.
“I thought I recognized it. That’s a great song. The house has been cleaned and basics moved in as you requested.” Taylor looked up at him from the stack of signed papers she was compiling. “Very basic.”
“Basic’s fine. Thank you, Taylor.”
“Maybe for a while, but really, Matt…”
“Barn’s next,” he said firmly.
“Speaking of which, here’s the itemized estimate for supplies for what I’m thinking you’ll need to fix the barn.” Cal handed him multiple pages. That couldn’t be good.
It wasn’t. The list of needed material starkly told the extent of deterioration. And these dollar amounts didn’t even touch on labor costs.
A tap sounded on the slightly ajar office door. It started to open wider. A woman’s voice came. “Taylor, that new assistant you hired isn’t out front. Do you have a—”
The door swung wide enough for him to see the new arrival.
He couldn’t put it together for a second.
In his memories, she wasn’t wearing a jacket over pressed jeans and boots.
In his memories, she wasn’t wearing anything.
And she wasn’t unexpectedly standing in the doorway of his lawyer’s office.
She was in his bed.
Sleeping, as he took one last look before he closed the door behind him.
And now here she was. He’d thought maybe someday — But it was too soon. He wasn’t ready.
She
took a second step in then stopped dead, spotting him.
He spoke first.
“You. What are you doing here?”
His words weren’t much. His tone was.
Plenty enough to make Cal half rise from his chair, perhaps with the intention of stepping between him and Zoe.
Matt could have assured the other man he was no threat to Zoe Parisi … if he could have gotten another word out.
Taylor stretched her hand toward her husband. He sank back to the chair, but didn’t settle.
“I didn’t know you knew Zoe, Matt,” she said calmly. “But now that you’ll be living here, of course you’ll cross paths a lot. She’s the best thing to happen to this area in ages. Oh, what was I thinking? You probably knew each other as kids from when she’d visit Hugh and Ruth.”
“Yes,” Zoe said.
He said at the same time, “No.”
“Uh-huh,” Taylor said neutrally. “Well, as I said, you’ll be crossing paths a lot, so let’s make sure there’s no confusion: Zoe Parisi, this is Matt Halderman, the newest landowner in Lewis County.” She gestured to the signed papers on her desk. “Matt, this is Zoe Parisi, our new doctor.”
“Doctor,” he repeated.
She made it.
She’d been so determined and she’d done it. Over any and every obstacle that came her way. He felt an inexplicable swell of warmth inside his chest.
She lifted her head. “Yes.”
The warmth flash-froze.
She wasn’t just a doctor. She was the doctor here.
In Knighton.
“Temporary?” That came out half-choked. “Filling in for Doc Johnson or—”
“Oh, no,” Taylor said. “Zoe’s taking over from Doc Johnson. They’ve been working together for a while. He told me the other day that he could retire any time and rest comfortable with Zoe in charge.”
“I’m staying.” Zoe’s “I’m” had a touch of emphasis to it.
He heard it. And answered it. “That so? Well, I am, too.” He thunked his hand on the stack of papers. “It’s official. Here to stay.”
Her gaze went to the papers. She licked her lips as if they’d suddenly gone dry.
He wished she hadn’t done that. He really wished she hadn’t.