In Deep Trouble Read online

  In Deep Trouble

  A Triple-D Ranch Romantic Suspense

  Terry Odell

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Terry Odell

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  In Deep Trouble

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  A Note From the Author

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  More by the Author

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  Further Reading: In Dire Straits

  In Deep Trouble

  To everyone at the Teller County Sheriff's Office.

  Chapter 1

  Cecily Cooper’s heart pounded as she stood in the judge’s chambers, awaiting the appearance of Grady Fenton, the first subject in her new program, Helping Through Horses. She’d spent months working out the details, hustling endorsements, groveling for grant monies, and had done everything in her power to convince her brother, Derek, to give Grady a job at the Cooper family Triple-D Ranch.

  Shuffling footfalls announced Grady’s arrival. She ran her damp palms along her denim skirt, wishing she could have worn jeans so she'd have pockets to hide the trembling. She tucked a wayward lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. A deputy half-pushed him into the room, muttering, “Show some respect.”

  With an extended exhale, the young man—Cecily knew from his case file he was a couple months shy of eighteen—stood at a poor imitation of attention. Dark red hair hung to his shoulders in unkempt tendrils. Freckles stood out in bold relief against his pasty complexion. He wore black denims, a light-blue long-sleeved polo shirt, and neon-orange sneakers. He clutched a duffle bag which Cecily assumed held his worldly possessions.

  Grady lifted his pointed chin and his pale blue eyes met the judge’s gaze. His expression telegraphed defiance, not respect.

  “Mr. Fenton,” the judge said. “Have the terms of your release been explained to you?”

  Grady shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I gotta go pretend to be a cowboy on some ranch. If I don’t fuck it up, I get cut loose.”

  The judge scowled. “Would you care to repeat yourself in more fitting language, or do you want to forfeit your chance at this program? So far, the charge is shoplifting, but please realize at your age, I could send you to prison as easily as the juvenile system.”

  Grady’s shoulders slumped. Then he straightened and spoke again. “I meant, if I do what’s expected in a satisfactory manner, my debt to society will be considered paid and I will be allowed to rejoin civilization.”

  “Very well,” the judge said.

  Cecily flashed Grady a wide grin.

  His gaze raked her up and down, and he returned her grin with a sneer.

  After taking care of the requisite paperwork, they exited the building. Grady didn’t speak until they reached the parking lot. “I’m starved. Can we get something to eat before I face these animals I’m supposed to live with?”

  “They’re expecting you for lunch at the ranch.” Cecily tried another smile. “I guarantee the food will be worth the wait.”

  Grady shrugged. “Okay, whatever.” He hugged his duffle, refusing to let Cecily stow it in the back of her SUV.

  Cecily climbed behind the wheel, feeling none of the excitement she’d been carrying since she’d found out she had the first candidate for her program. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she’d hoped Grady would have shown a little enthusiasm. Or gratitude. Or anything positive. Didn’t he know how lucky he was? How important her project was? How he could impact the futures of far more people like him?

  With a sigh, she exited the parking lot. After the first mile, she gave up on conversation. Her thoughts turned to Bryce Barrett, Derek’s ranch hand. Her sort-of boyfriend. The one Derek would saddle with handling Grady. The one who preferred animals to people, and had protested being part of the program from the start. Her relationship with Bryce had been on shaky ground for the last couple of months, as she’d spent most of her off duty hours working on her project. She had a feeling things weren’t going to get any better once he met Grady.

  Bryce Barrett clamped his Stetson on his head and urged Shadow, his mare, into a gallop, guiding her into an intercept course with a recalcitrant steer. As if Shadow needed guidance. She saw the animal making a run for it and was in pursuit almost before Bryce told her what to do. He watched as the young animal raced across the pasture, as if chased by an invisible demon. He gave thanks that whatever had spooked the steer hadn’t upset the rest of the herd.

  Damn. It was headed right for the fence. Bryce spurred Shadow on, but the steer had too much of a head start and ran blindly into the barbed wire. One leg was caught, which only served to spook it even more.

  Bryce and Shadow came to a halt a few feet away. Behind him, Bryce sensed one of his fellow cowhands. A quick glance told him it was Frank Wembly, who’d been covering the other side of the herd. Bryce dismounted and approached the entangled animal. “Easy fella. Moving around’s only going to make it worse.”

  “Need some help?” Frank asked.

  “Cutters,” Bryce said.

  “Comin’ right up.”

  While Bryce waited for Frank, he pressed his hands on the animal’s heaving chest. “It’s okay, little guy. We’ll get you out of there.”

  The steer seemed to understand Bryce was there to help, and its struggling lessened.

  Frank reached in, cut the wire, and extricated the animal. “Doesn’t look too bad,” he said. “You calmed him down before he did any serious damage. They should call you the cow whisperer. Or just plain animal whisperer. Don’t know how you do it, but I’m glad it works. Probably saved either putting the animal down or some horrendous vet bill. D-Man will like that.”

  Bryce shrugged it off. The steer scrambled to its feet and took off for the herd. “I’ll let him know.” Without another word, Bryce mounted up and called his boss, Derek Cooper, owner of the Triple-D Ranch.

  “More scared than hurt,” Bryce said.

  “I’m still bogged down in paperwork. Cecily and Grady should be here in time for lunch. Head back so you can meet them if they get here before I’m done. It’s almost lunchtime.”

  “You sure you don’t need me out here?” Bryce knew he was postponing the inevitable, and wasn’t surprised when Derek told him no.

  Bryce clucked his tongue, and Shadow took off at an easy lope. “You’re thinking you’ll get some lunch too, aren’t you? Maybe you can greet the new kid.”

  Twenty minutes later, Bryce rested a foot on the lower fence rail of the paddock and whistled. Ginger, Cecily’s aged mare, moseyed over looking for a handout and Bryce gave her a chunk of carrot. As she munched, she moved closer and lowered her head. He scratched her poll, right between the ears. “You like that, don’t you girl? You behave yourself and Cecily might come by and take you for a walk.”

  Or not. She’d probably be too busy with the new kid. Bryce’s gut clenched. For a while, he’d thought they might have something more serious going, but she was so engrossed in helping people—people who couldn’t be trusted, people who would end up yanking her shiny bright world out from under her fancy boots—that they had nothing left to talk about except how Ginger was doing.

  Damn Derek for not being able to resist his sister’s requests. Demands, more like it, but Derek never saw it that way. She’d give him her brown-eyed puppy-dog look, and he’d melt. Nothing Bryce said—to either of them—could change her mind. Derek had caved.
Easy for him—because guess who Derek said had to ride herd on this punk? Good old Bryce, that’s who. He and Lemuel, the last stray Cecily had sent to the Triple-D, had gotten along, so Derek and his sister assumed Bryce would respond to everyone the same way.

  He kicked a clod of dirt. No. Didn’t work that way. Lemuel had that one in a million gift of animal connection. Animals didn’t have secrets. They didn’t have agendas. Not like people. With an animal, you needed to know how to read them, and Lemuel could.

  High-pitched sounds of the old triangle clanging from the back porch signaled lunch was ready. Bryce gave Ginger one more scratch before hustling for the ranch house. He stopped in the mud room to take off his boots, placed his Stetson on the shelf, and washed up at the sink as Frank and Tim arrived and joined in the routine. Charlie, Derek’s little-bit-of-everything mutt, stopped at Bryce’s feet for a scratch before trotting into the kitchen.

  “You meet the new kid?” Frank asked.

  Bryce shook his head. “Not here yet.”

  “You think you can teach him to help with the livestock, or you gonna have him hauling hay and pitching manure?” Tim said.

  “I don’t know who he is. Street kid was all Cecily said. If he thinks he’s getting an all-expenses-paid trip to a classy dude ranch, he’s in for an eye-opener. I know there has to be some horse connection to fit the rules of the program. Beyond that, there’s plenty we can come up with to keep him busy.”

  “You must be pissed,” Tim said with a chuckle. “Haven’t heard you string so many words together since—since ever, I’d say.”

  Bryce ignored Tim, the ranch clown. Lunch awaited, and tantalizing aromas filled the room. Enchiladas?

  In the kitchen, Frank zeroed in on the coffee pot, while Bryce headed for the fridge and the ever-present pitcher of lemonade. Tim snagged a bottle of water, and the three men proceeded to the dining room and slid into their customary seats. Derek’s was noticeably empty, as were two more place settings.

  “Where’s the boss?” Tim helped himself to a generous portion of the enchilada casserole, then passed the dish to Frank.

  “Right here.” Derek strode to the table and took his place. “Cecily and Grady should be here any minute.”

  The rumble of a car engine and the crunching of gravel said Cecily—and their new hand—had arrived. Bryce pushed his plate aside.

  Chapter 2

  Cecily parked her SUV at the rear of the ranch house. “This is it.”

  Grady got out, clutching his duffle bag close, as if the two were conjoined twins. Cecily opened the door to the mud room.

  “You can leave your bag in here,” she said.

  Grady shook his head and tightened his grip.

  “Then let’s have lunch,” she said. “You can meet the hands.”

  In the kitchen, Cecily paused before heading for the dining room. “Grady, this is Tanya. She’s our cook and is probably the most important person you’ll interact with—assuming you like to eat. Tanya, Grady’s our new hand.”

  Tanya turned away from the sink, wiped her hands on a towel, and offered a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Grady.”

  Grady seemed to be sizing her up, and shifted his duffle so he could accept Tanya’s hand. He gave a quick head bob. Shakes and nods seemed to comprise the bulk of his vocabulary, but the boy didn’t seem immune to Tanya’s good looks. Her deep blue t-shirt set off her coppery-colored complexion and caramel-colored eyes. She was an exotic—and attractive—blend of her Latino father and African-American mother.

  In the dining room, Frank and Tim stopped eating long enough to smile at Grady. Bryce shifted his silvery blue eyes to Cecily for a split second, then studied his plate, moving morsels of food around, not eating. Cecily’s stomach lurched. Had bringing Grady to the ranch been the final cut in what she’d thought—hoped—could have turned into a serious relationship? Despite the anger radiating from Bryce, she felt a familiar quickening inside, the one seeing him triggered. The one that said I want to be near you. Sit beside you. Talk to you. Laugh with you.

  Derek motioned to an empty chair. “Welcome to the Triple-D, Grady. Around here, there’s the quick and the hungry, so grab some food before it’s gone.”

  Grady took the indicated seat and stashed his duffle under the table. Cecily sat beside him. She glanced toward her brother, sending him a silent question about making introductions. Helping Grady feel accepted.

  Before Derek said anything, Tanya came into the room. Her smile for Grady repeated her initial welcome.

  “What do you want to drink, Grady?” Tanya asked. “There’s always coffee in the pot, lemonade in the fridge, or you can have water, milk or soda. It’s help yourself, but I’ll bring you what you want, seein’ how it’s your first day.”

  “Milk?”

  “Coming right up.” Tanya waited.

  “I need more coffee,” Derek said, rising. “Sis?”

  “Water’s fine. Thanks.” Stalling, Cecily thought. Or did he want to talk to Tanya in private? Resisting the urge to join them, she tasted her casserole. Closed her eyes. Heaven. “This is really good, Grady. Go ahead. Eat.”

  Tanya returned with Grady’s milk.

  “Thanks,” he said without lifting his eyes. He forked up a tentative mouthful of the enchiladas and his eyes widened. The tiniest twitch of his mouth was the first hint of a smile Cecily had seen.

  “Told you,” she said and worked on the rest of her lunch. If the way to the boy’s heart was through his stomach, Tanya’s cooking should convince Grady that Cecily’s program had an upside.

  Derek returned with a glass of water for her, and a mug of coffee for himself. Still avoiding introductions, he dove into his meal.

  She’d barely made a dent in her portion before Grady scooped seconds of both the casserole and the coleslaw onto his plate. Cecily wondered when his last home-cooked meal had been.

  “Save some room for dessert,” Tim said. “Tanya’s apple cobbler is to die for.”

  Grady glanced at Tim, then at his own plate and kept shoveling. Meanwhile, Cecily tried to send mental messages to Derek that he needed to get on with the basics.

  Tanya brought in the cobbler and plates, and for the next few moments, the only sounds were forks clicking against ceramic. At long last, Derek set his plate aside, took one more sip of coffee, wiped his mouth, then cleared his throat. All eyes shifted to Grady, who stared at a point on the wall across from him.

  “Men, this is Grady Fenton. Grady, you’ve already met Cecily. These guys are my regulars. Frank, Tim, and Bryce.” Frank lifted a hand in a half-wave, Tim nodded, and Bryce pulled his ponytail over his shoulder and toyed with the rubber bands along its length. Still avoiding her eyes.

  Derek went on. “We don’t stand on a lot of formality here, but we do expect everyone to pull his weight. I understand you don’t have a lot of experience with horses. Is that right?”

  Grady twisted his napkin. “No. Yes. I mean, I never been on a horse.”

  “Bryce is our head wrangler—that means he’s in charge of the horses. He’s going to help you learn how to handle them. What he says is law. Mess up with Bryce, and you’re out of here. Understand?”

  Although his tone was even, Cecily knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kick Grady out. The look Derek gave her said those last words were directed at her as much as the boy. She nodded her understanding.

  Bryce’s expression seemed to relax a bit, as if he’d been handed a Get out of jail free card.

  “This is a working ranch,” Derek continued, “started by my great-grandfather and his two brothers. I left the ranch some years ago, joined the Army Rangers and then a private security company. I came back about five years ago when health issues with my mom made it impossible for her and my dad to continue to work the ranch. I’m not going to be the one who’s responsible for ending the business. It’s my job to make sure the Triple-D is around for a good long while.”

  Grady’s features were expressionless. Better than scowling or smirking, Cecily figured.

  “The food in front of you, the roof over your head, comes from the cattle we raise,” Derek said. “Everything, and I mean everything, depends on the livestock. The horses are our tools for working with the cattle. They come first. You don’t eat until they eat. You don’t go to bed until they’re settled in for the night. Bryce will show you how it’s all done. Questions so far?”