A cowboy for eliza, p.1
A Cowboy for Eliza, page 1
A COWBOY FOR ELIZA
Cowboys of Wildcat Creek, Book Five
Barbara McMahon
www.barbaramcmahon.com
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A Cowboy for Eliza
Copyright © 2022 Barbara McMahon
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
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1Chapter One
Eliza Canfield stepped into Rosie’s Café on her way to work. She glanced around the crowded restaurant glad she wasn’t planning to stop longer than it took to get her coffee to go. It was her one daily indulgence.
“Good morning,” Carrie Sue called out from behind the counter. “I’ll have your coffee up in a second.”
Eliza nodded and stepped near the cash register. From how busy Carrie Sue was, she knew they wouldn’t have any time to chit-chat. Just as well. She had a lot of work waiting at the bank. Thanksgiving last week had put her behind.
She waved to a couple of the men she knew. Few women were in this early. And she was a bit surprised to see so many cowboys and ranchers on a Thursday, though the labor intensive work at the ranches had eased a bit as winter approached.
“Here you go,” Carrie Sue said, handing her the go-cup of hot coffee.
“Busy today,” Eliza murmured paying for her drink.
“The stores in town are having a special today–with someone to help men find that perfect gift for their special lady.”
“That’s a novel idea. No wonder there are so many men here. I hope the idea is a success. Have you seen Jenny lately?”
“She was in town yesterday for the final fitting. I had mine, too. We are good to go in two weeks.”
Eliza smiled at Carrie Sue. “I expect I’ll hear something about a wedding from you before too much longer. Most of my friends are either already married, or planning a wedding. I feel left out.”
“Well I don’t know when Philip will be back. He’s so busy,” Carrie Sue said slowly. “Gotta scoot. Have a good one.”
Eliza nodded and turned to walk to the bank a few doors down the street.
It was true, most of her friends had recently fallen in love. Jenny and Tuck’s wedding would be soon. Her new friend Shelly had married the past September. Kristi and Brodie had married almost as soon as he asked last summer. Holly was engaged.
She sighed.
Not that she was looking for marriage. Her parents’ had been a stellar example of what not to do. But she was feeling a little left out. She knew she’d have those special friends forever, but it wouldn’t be the same as when they’d all been single and had their girls’ night out. Soon there’d be kids, other things to claim their time.
She entered the bank by the side door. Her assistant was already at her desk.
“Good morning,” Eliza greeted.
There was enough going on in the bank to instantly banish all thoughts of love and marriage.
Shortly before ten o’clock, Brittany slipped into Eliza’s office and closed the door, leaning against it dramatically.“You’ve got the Lone Ranger outside demanding to see you. And if he’s not bringing trouble with a capital T, I don’t know anything about men,” Brittany said.
For a moment Eliza stared at her secretary. Brittany dated more than anyone she knew–especially here in Wildcat Creek where cowboys comprised about ninety-five percent of available men.
The younger woman didn’t wait for weekends, she went out several times a week, a different guy each time. So Brittany knew men, Eliza thought.
Slowly, Eliza put down her pencil and looked at the younger woman.
“The Lone Ranger?” she queried gently.
“Or Texas Ranger, maybe. Anyway a close kin. Tough, no nonsense. He asked to see the loan manager and when I said you were busy, he got really quiet and leaned over my desk, looked me right in the eyes and said he would wait until you weren’t busy, but he would darn well see you today. Sent shivers up my spine, I can tell you.”
Brittany smiled at the memory.
“Of course, he’s a hunk and a half. I wouldn’t mind him waiting all day by my desk until you can see him. I’d be glad to keep an eye on him. But I don’t think he’s going to be easy to get rid of.”
Eliza frowned and stood. Slowly, she walked toward the door.
“Did he say why he wanted to see me? What about?”
“No, but it’s got to be about some loan, don’t you think?”
Brittany’s excitement almost tangible. She stepped to one side as Eliza reached for the doorknob.
Feeling uncertain, Eliza eased the door away from the frame enough to peek through the opening. The man stood with feet braced, twisting a Stetson in his hand gazing across the bank lobby. He did look a bit like the Lone Ranger—tall, rugged, forceful. Only he wore no mask—which was probably good, since this was a bank and wearing a mask could prove dangerous.
Did he represent truth, justice and the American way? She frowned, maybe that was a super hero, not the Lone Ranger.
In reality, he looked like a rangy cowboy, all jeans, muscles, angular features and testosterone. Eliza often saw cowboys like him strutting down the streets of Wildcat Creek.
She avoided them whenever possible. They came from a different world than she—one so foreign to her she never considered venturing in. Her background didn’t include ranching or rowdy cowboys. Her father had been in insurance. Her mother a school teacher.
She closed the door and looked at Brittany. One thing was for sure, she’d been right about his being a hunk. Keeping her demeanor calm with some effort, Eliza slowly moved back to her desk.
“Since he’s probably not going away until he’s said what he came for, I’ll take a break and see him. If he hasn’t left in ten minutes, break in and say I have an important call,” Eliza instructed.
“Gotcha.”
Brittany smiled and eagerly turned to leave.
Eliza sank behind her desk, thankful for its formidable size, feeling she’d need the distance for the coming confrontation. Who was her visitor and what did he want?
Robert Taylor, the bank president, often sent irate customers to her because of her ability to soothe them out of a complaint and smooth over the business relationship.
It didn’t matter to him that she hated that part of her job or that she often wondered why her co-worker Conrad Phelps never had to do that.
Though she knew her boss played favorites and she wasn’t one of them.
Eliza still felt surprised to have recently been promoted to Loan Officer. Robert had a more chauvinistic outlook then others. Yet her performance was outstanding. One day she hoped for a vice presidency and wouldn’t jeopardize her chances of promotion by appearing to be anything less than a team player. So she put up with her call to be customer service extraordinaire.
She gritted her teeth each time and did her best.
She could handle the cowboy. He didn’t look angry, just resolute.
And tall. And big. And very male.
She straightened the spreadsheet and waited for him to enter. She’d hear him out, attempt to resolve whatever had brought him here, get rid of him, and get back to her analysis.
“Are you E. Canfield? I expected a man.”
The deep voice at the door drew her attention and her eyes widened. Closer, he appeared stunning. His eyes were a stormy gray like a cloud gathering for rain. His angular features suggested a face that had been carved from brown sandstone. His strong jaw was stubborn and he looked most determined.
She’d bet the bank he would have waited all day to see her just as he’d said.
His broad shoulders were encased in a sherling-lined denim jacket. While not new, the jacket appeared newer than the faded jeans that clad his long muscular legs. And both looked in better shape than the scuffed boots. Had he just ridden in off the range?
For one foolish moment she wondered if he had a horse tied outside.
Eliza shook her head slightly at the absurdity. Annoyingly, her heart pounded as she took in every inch of him. Stalling for a moment until her heart rate slowed, she swallowed and let her eyes trace over him as she raised her gaze to meet his.
“E is for Eliza. And you are?”
He stepped into her office and pushed the door closed behind him. Before it had a chance to click shut, he’d crossed the room to stand near her desk, dropped the Stetson on one chair, hooked the second chair closer with his boot and sank down. His hard glare never wavered from her face.
“My name wo
Eliza sat, straightened the folders to the left of the spreadsheet and glanced at the man. She recognized Victor Holmes as one of their customers. One who was in arrears on his loan.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss customers’ affairs with others. If Mr. Holmes needs to discuss his situation, he’ll have to do so himself.”
“That he can’t do. He’s been ill and is still bedridden.”
She blinked.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that.”
“That much is obvious. If you or anyone else in this bank had the common decency to call and find out what was going on, you’d have discovered the facts. But everything’s been done by mail and by the book. You can’t foreclose on the property.”
She bristled.
“Now wait a minute. We tried to contact him several times both by letter and phone. We received no response. He’s months in arrears, if I remember correctly. If Mr. Holmes doesn’t clear the overdue amount by the date stated in the most recent letter, we have no choice but to proceed for foreclosure under the full extent of the law.”
She itched to refresh her memory with the Holmes folder. The successful resolution of this account would go a long way proving to Robert Taylor that he’d made the right choice for Loan Manager.
Reluctant to instigate foreclosure proceedings, she’d had no other choice once Robert began to hint that perhaps she wasn’t up to the task of keeping her accounts in order. She’d continually attempted to reach Victor Holmes as she’d followed procedures in great detail, to make sure every step taken complied with the law.
She also had stalled as long as she could. She knew ranchers had more seasonal incomes than monthly amounts. Maybe the loan repayments could be made up. But she’d heard nothing.
Yet, to prove to the president and the members of the board of directors that a woman was perfectly capable of handling the added responsibilities of the position of loan officer, no matter how difficult those tasks were, she knew she had to do this job to the best of her ability. She’d finally initiated the formal steps toward foreclosure.
Staring at the man sitting opposite her, Eliza vowed she wouldn’t let some yahoo cowboy jeopardize a future promotion.
He didn’t reply immediately, instead his gaze traveled insolently over her, from the tip of her head to where the edge of the desk blocked his view. For one stunning moment Eliza wanted to reach up to make sure her hair was in place.
She blinked, heat rising in her cheeks. Usually she didn’t care what she looked like, beyond conveying a professional demeanor. The suit colors she wore indicated she knew what was proper for a banking environment: dark blue, charcoal gray, black–always combined with a silk blouse.
She certainly didn’t care what some stranger thought of her appearance.
So why did her heart pound a little faster? Why did she long to take off her jacket to cool the heat that suddenly encased her? Why did she feel curiously aware of him? Her senses were attuned to his breathing, his strength, his masculinity. Every beat of her heart made her that much more aware.
Good grief, what was the matter with her? He was just another irate customer she needed to placate. It was part of her job.
“Play Scrooge some other time. It won’t hurt you to hold off on your blasted foreclosure for a few more weeks. You can’t sell the property right away anyway, land values are way down. In a couple of months Victor’ll be back on his feet. Once he musters some cattle, sells them, he’ll be good for the money.”
“We don’t work that way, Mr.—”
Horrified she stared at him. She never forgot names. But she could only remember his first name. Josh. How could she forget his last name?
She knew color stained her cheeks, but her mind remained a blank. This never happened. She prided herself on her professionalism. Just because his perusal shook her to her core was no reason to draw a blank.
Taking a breath, she tried to recapture control of the discussion. Tried to ignore the fact that he made her aware of him in a totally different way. Attempted to ignore the odd reaction churning inside as he stared at her. His eyes were now almost silver and seemed to see everything—even how nervous he made her.
She knew he knew it when the left side of his mouth slowly moved up in a half derisive, lopsided smile. His eyes danced with amusement as he remained quiet, waiting to see how she dug herself out of this hole. Undoubtedly enjoying her discomfort as the seconds ticked by, he did nothing to help her out, which made Eliza even more determined to take charge of the conversation.
Taking a deep breath, she began to speak in a reasonable tone, as if lecturing a five-year-old.
“The bank has certain rules it follows. We can’t extend indefinite credit to everyone or we would be out of business in no time. Mr. Holmes knew the terms when he signed the loan agreement. He hasn’t followed them. As for being unreasonable, we have been trying for months to contact him. Had he paid on the loan as scheduled, we wouldn’t have this problem. Had he contacted us with a request to modify the payment, we would have listened. We are within our rights—”
“Who cares about rights? We’re talking about a man who has worked his entire life on this ranch. Now he’s run into a spot of trouble. The least you can do is give him a chance to explain things, to see if some compromise can be worked out instead of rushing this foreclosure through.”
“We tried. And we are hardly rushing.”
Eliza resented this man’s implications. If only he knew the trouble she’d risked by delaying as long as she had. Mr. Taylor already watched her every move on this deal. Who did this man think he was to come in and accuse her of rushing through things?
Josh Sterling rose, looming over her desk and leaning on the edge with his fists.
Eliza leaned back in her chair. He stood three feet away, but she felt overwhelmed by his presence. His eyes grew stormy as if he didn’t like what he saw. He filled her vision, his denim as out of place in her pristine office as her silk blouse would be on his ranch. The power he radiated enveloped her, kept her silent as she watched, fascinated, to see his next move.
She could no more have captured control of the encounter than she could ride a bucking horse. Blood pounded as she filled her gaze with him.
“Your name was on the letter, E. Canfield. But you are not the only employee at the bank. I’ll talk to the president and see if I can make him see sense. If not, I have a few friends at the Wildcat Creek Free Press. Maybe a human interest story about the big bad bank ruining a small-time rancher without any regard for the man’s illness and temporary situation will garner some interest. Maybe another bank will even step in and assume the debt, becoming a hero to all its depositors.”
He reached for his hat and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
A touch of panic coursed through her. The last thing Eliza wanted was for him to go to the president. Robert Taylor was not shy about making his opinions about women in banking known.
She often thought he only tolerated her because of the changing views of board members toward women in business. In her heart, she knew he’d relish any opportunity to keep her from moving up. But her past performance had been exemplary. She’d worked too long and too hard for some loudmouthed cowboy riding a grudge to ruin it for her.
To make matters worse, this rowdy cowboy was exactly the kind of good ole boy Robert Taylor liked to hobnob with. Her boss would delight in the two of them joining forces against the little woman. He’d side with this man on general principles alone, with no consideration to the validity of his claim.
She couldn’t allow that.
Eliza gritted her teeth as the cowboy turned and raised an eyebrow.
“Please sit back down Mr.—”
Darn, what was his name?
“Stirling, ma’am. It’s Josh Stirling,” he said, as if talking to an idiot.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stirling. Please sit back down and let’s discuss this just a bit. I can explain the bank’s position and maybe—”
