A Cowboy's Inheritance - A Gallagher Brothers Painted Acres Ranch Clean, Small-Town Romance.

Chapter 1

Judge walked into the kitchen at his normal early hour of six a.m. having already showered and dressed in jeans, his work boots, and a T-shirt. Summer made the day warm already. Once the sun was completely overhead, it was bound to be another scorcher, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed working outside on the ranch even more than he had expected when he’d moved here back in April.

Judge pressed the brew button on the coffee pot that he had set up the evening before with coffee and a filter. He opened the refrigerator to grab a carton of eggs, a package of bacon, and cream cheese. Judge made quick work of beating the eggs then set the butter and a chunk of cream cheese in the pan to melt before pouring in the eggs. 

Cooking the bacon in the microwave was the easy way out and arguably not as good since the bacon didn’t crisp up as well, but it was faster and less messy than cooking it in a skillet, so that was the method he’d chosen. He’d leave the gourmet cooking to Colette’s sister, Miriam.

Returning to the stovetop, he stirred the eggs around a few times before setting the spatula down on the spoon holder. He walked over to the pantry, grabbed a loaf of bread, and set it by the toaster. He knew Brock and Lucky would be down any minute. Brock because he was an early riser like Judge, and Lucky because he liked food.

Judge had to grudgingly admit that Lucky had been much more helpful around the ranch than he had expected. Lucky was a restless soul and never spent much time in one place, which was the complete opposite of Judge’s personality. He had spent time in the marines and then he had spent time as a cop, preferring everything to have organized order in all areas of his life. Lucky had seemed to take to ranch life and Judge hoped that maybe he had found his calling.

He went back over to the stove and stirred the eggs again, so they didn’t stick to the pan. Knowing he only had a few seconds before they were ready, he grabbed a paper plate and paper towel to lay strips of bacon then popped them in the microwave and set the timer. 

After less than a minute, the smell of cooking bacon permeated the air and Judge’s stomach growled. Footsteps sounded in the hallway toward the kitchen and soon Brock arrived, nodding at Judge as he walked in. He grabbed a cup and stuck it underneath the coffee maker to catch the coffee dripping out while he took the pot and filled another cup of coffee.

“Every morning you do that, and it dirties another cup. Do you think you could wait just a few minutes until the coffee is actually done?” Judge said to his brother, shaking his head. He couldn’t grumble too much. Brock did his fair share of the dishes. It just was a waste of a clean cup in Judge’s eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure I could, but then it wouldn’t get under your skin, and what fun would that be?” Brock said good-naturedly. He walked around Judge to the other side of the island and sat on a stool, nursing his coffee. “You look exhausted.”

Brock rubbed his hand over his face. “I am. I got a call about two a.m. Someone’s dog got tangled up with either a pack of wild dogs or maybe a wolf or a coyote and needed a fair number of stitches.”

“Oh no. Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

“Why did they call you?” 

Brock was the large animal vet in town, but there was another vet, from the next town over, who typically dealt with domesticated cats and dogs. “Unfortunately, Dr. Younger was already out on call, so he couldn’t get to the dog in a timely manner. He was bleeding pretty bad. So, he called me. I’d forgotten how much more emotionally attached owners are to their pets versus ranchers and farmers to livestock.”

“It’s good that you were available to help out,” Judge said as he took the eggs off the stove.

“I agree. I enjoyed treating a dog for a change. Made me think it’s a sign we need to get a dog here.”

“We’re getting a dog? I think that’s a great idea,” Lucky said as he walked in. 

Judge saw a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. Lucky had turned into a hopeless romantic since moving to Painted Acres Ranch when Brock began seeing Colette. Perhaps that was why Lucky had moved around so much. When he started to care about something or someone too much, he felt he needed to move on both in location and in spirit.

“I was just telling Judge here how I treated a dog last night and you know, a farm does need a dog.” He offered his steaming mug as if giving a toast.

“Yeah, you’re right. And now that we have those cattle, what’s one more mouth to feed?” Judge joked. 

The cattle Judge purchased shortly after they moved here had proven to be a lot more work and money than Judge had ever anticipated. But then, having never owned cattle before, it wasn’t surprising that he had misjudged how much work they would be.

“What I would agree with is that a dog is definitely what we need in this place,” Brock said. 

Judge walked over to the toaster and put the bread in. He spooned the scrambled eggs into a bowl and grabbed the bacon from the microwave, heading over to a little table in the corner of the kitchen that they had most of their meals in. The formal dining room was just that—too formal for quick meals.

“You guys go ahead, and I’ll grab the toast,” Judge said and turned, smelling something burning. He glanced at the toaster as smoke billowed from the top.

“I like my toast with a good crunch, but that’s a little excessive,” Brock said.

“It’s not my cooking. It’s the stupid toaster. I have it on the lowest setting, and it still burns every time. It wasn’t even in there a full minute.”

Judge grabbed the charred pieces and tossed them in the trash, put fresh slices in, and pressed the lever, this time not taking his eyes off it.

“Maybe you’re just a bad cook,” Lucky said.

Judge scowled at each of them in turn. “Feel free to cook your own breakfast then.” 

“Never mind. I love your burnt toast, brother,” Lucky said.

Even though his back was to his brothers, he could imagine their expressions. He just smiled and then leaned over to peer in the toaster, hitting the lever so it popped up and deeming the bread toasted enough. He did that a couple more times. Judge could tell Lucky was trying hard to suppress a smile when he finally joined his brothers at the table.

“If you had a good woman like Brock here, she could make the toast. Then you wouldn’t burn it,” Lucky said.

Judge knew Lucky was teasing. He had sworn off relationships years ago, but there were times he envied Brock’s relationship with Colette. The last thing Brock had wanted after his wife had passed away was to think about a relationship with another woman. Even so, Colette had stolen his heart soon after they had arrived in Cottontail Junction, Montana.

That just wasn’t in the cards for him.

Judge’s heart was too closed off to find a woman like that. Life had made him jaded and now he had no time or inclination for love. Women were nothing but trouble.

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