Some Cowboys are Just Friends (Keagans of Copper Creek #7)

Chapter 1

1

Margot Bennet

H ow did she end up here? Margot didn’t mean her hometown of Copper Creek. She couldn’t believe she found herself back at her father’s home in a small town after she’d been on top of the world.

Two bags of luggage stood erect at her side after the taxi driver dropped her off. It was still the early morning hours, and she hadn’t exactly told her father she was coming home. Margot had left a wake of debt, failures, and disappointments in her path. Years of trying to get her father’s approval had ended when she’d gone against his wishes and dropped out of Columbia.

If she were honest with herself, she’d admit it started long before. She’d gotten in with the wrong crowd in high school. And then again at Julliard. But leaving Columbia had been her choice.

She took in a deep breath and exhaled, but the action didn’t ease the weight that rested on her shoulders and squeezed her insides. Margot had thought she’d finally made it—until she shattered her tibia. It was healed now, but she had a limp, and no self-respecting ballet company would want her in her condition.

Margot glanced up at the house where everything had started to go wrong. If she had somewhere else to go, she would. To be under her father’s thumb again was a fate worse than death.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her father. He’d done everything he could to raise her on his own when her mother passed. But he was strict and judgmental. There was always something she could do better—always a way to improve. She was simply never good enough.

Standing out on the paved circular driveway in front of their oversized house wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She needed to let her father know she was home but that she wasn’t planning on staying long. Hopefully, that would be enough to get him to stay off her back.

Her hand wrapped around the handle of the larger suitcase, and she dragged it toward the house. The wheels scuttled across the pavement and bounced up each step until she reached the front door. Margot typed the pin code into the electronic keypad, and the door unlocked with a click. She deposited the suitcase in the foyer, then retrieved the second.

As quietly as she could, she closed the door. Then she held her breath as she waited for any indication her father was home.

It’s possible he was. He owned the local bank and it allowed him to take his time getting to work if he wanted to. Every breakfast she could remember was spent in the oversized dining room beneath a lavish chandelier. Between the housekeeper and the butler, her father didn’t have to lift a finger to take care of her.

She couldn’t help but think about her mother and wonder what things would have been like if she had lived.

A sharp pain sliced through her body at the memory of her. The woman was a saint. She was as beautiful as she was kind. Everyone who knew her agreed. She was the exact polar opposite of her father—a fact that confused Margot as she got older. She didn’t know how her father had snagged someone who was so generous and kind, but it was the luckiest thing that had happened to him in his life—and that included his wealth.

She took a step forward, not daring to drag her luggage up to her old room. There was no way she could do it quietly with her leg in the shape it was. While she could manage walking, doing anything more strenuous wore her out before she had a chance to really make a dent. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t gotten a job yet. Most jobs these days were for people who could remain on their feet the whole time, but she needed several breaks.

Margot slipped off her shoes and soundlessly padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder only once when she thought she’d heard one of the wood planks on the stairs creak, but it was nothing. She turned the corner into the kitchen and froze.

At the small table where no one ever ate, her father sat reading a newspaper. He glanced up over the edge of the paper, his dark eyes judging her just like she’d expected. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Her hand gripped the edge of the wall as her legs became weak. He was just as intimidating as ever. While everyone in town—including herself—both admired and respected him, she knew him even better. Rhett was the kind of man who demanded that respect even from his only daughter. He had a hard time connecting with her on a deeper level. She couldn’t blame him. Her mother passed away when she was only eight. He didn’t know how to raise a girl except to set expectations for her—most of which were highly unattainable.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” He shook out his newspaper and folded it before placing it on the table.

“Who reads newspapers anymore?”

Rhett arched a single brow and then sighed, the disappointment ringing through the air louder than if he’d chosen to holler at her. His eyes flitted to her feet. “I got the hospital bill. When were you going to tell me that you broke your leg?”

She flushed, digging her fingers into her palms. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

He didn’t react to her statement. Was it a good choice or a bad one? Should she have said something? Called him? No, that would have been a mistake. Then she would have had to listen to him chewing her out on the phone for who knew how long. She’d been in a bad place mentally. It had been extremely difficult not to fall back into her old ways of starving herself. Thankfully, her roommates had helped her get through the worst of it. But now that she was back in her hometown, she could feel the temptation returning.

Margot cleared her throat and forced herself to enter the kitchen. Coffee was in the pot on the counter. There was a plate of eggs, bacon, and sausage near the stove. Apparently, their housekeeper was still employed. But then, why wouldn’t she be? Diana had served their family well over the years, and her father had probably grown accustomed to her.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday. Traveling had taken its toll, and her overnight bus ride hadn’t given her the clarity she’d hoped for. She continued to the plate and picked up a crispy piece of bacon. Margot reveled in the texture and the flavor of something so simple. She closed her eyes. Everything would be okay. She was an adult now. Her father couldn’t make demands of her anymore.

“What’s the plan, Margot?”

She stiffened, keeping her back to him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve come home after being kicked out of Julliard. Then, dropping out of Columbia. Now, you have an injury that is likely still healing. I think I should be permitted to know what your plans are. Nothing in this life is free. You have to earn it.”

“I know ,” she muttered.

“You can’t just come home and expect me to give you the world. What are you going to do?”

“I…” She opened her eyes and placed the half-eaten piece of bacon back on the plate. “I don’t know yet.”

“That’s not good enough.” The newspaper rustled again, making it clear he’d picked it up to read once more. “All the money I spent on your classical training only for you to do something so stupid as to get caught drinking underage. It’s reckless.”

Margot gripped the countertop with both hands, letting the edge dig into her palm much like her fingernails had. That night had been a disaster of epic proportions. But she was older now. She knew how to be responsible.

“Do you even know the strings I had to pull with my friends in Columbia? You didn’t exactly have the grades for that school, you know. Lucky for you, I got you in. You were supposed to take classes that would help you find a job in a respectable institution.”

“To do what?” she said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice but failing. “I’ve told you a million times that I don’t want to work with you.”

He went quiet, but not for very long. “Do you have any other solution? You can’t just float through your life without a job. People aren’t going to keep giving you handouts. And I’m not going to continue to fund your irresponsible tendencies.”

“I’m going to figure it out, okay? I just need to take some time.” She spun around to face him, not surprised that his eyes were still glued to the newspaper. “Mom stopped working after she married you, and you never held that against her.” Margot knew she shouldn’t have said it the second the words slipped through her lips. There was something in the way he held himself that made it clear she’d crossed the line. They never spoke about her mother. She knew there had been some tension between them when she was really young, but for the most part, all she remembered was the good times.

“Leave your mother out of this.” His words were cold and unfeeling. She’d struck a nerve.

Good. Her father needed to understand the pressure he was putting her under while he continued to beat a proverbial dead horse on the subject.

She folded her arms. The tension in the room had skyrocketed. He was upset; she was upset. There would be no getting through this argument without one or both of them leaving to cool off. “I’m going to see Prada today. I haven’t seen her in ages, and I want to make sure the Callahans are taking good care of her.”

“We need to discuss that matter, too.”

“What about it?” She turned to the nearest cabinet and grabbed a glass for some water. “They still board horses there, don’t they?”

“That’s not the issue. I’m not going to keep paying for that horse. Like you said, you barely see her. I doubt she even remembers you.”

Margot gasped. “You can’t make me get rid of her. She’s the only baby mom’s horse had.”

“And I’m the one who pays for her care.” He twisted around in his seat and gave her a pointed look. “Unless you get a job and get one fast, Prada isn’t going to have a place to stay much longer. You might as well send her to the glue factory.”

She gasped again. “How can you even say that? She’s the only thing I have left of Mom.” Her skin flushed hot, then cold. “I’m keeping her.”

“That’s up to you. I wish you luck.”

Her mouth fell open. Rhett had always been considered a city boy. At least, that was what her mother used to say. He’d swept her off her feet and taken her away from the ranching life for a while. Their only compromise was that she could keep her horse. That animal was long gone now. But her spirit lived on in Prada.

Margot let out a disgruntled sound and stormed through the kitchen toward the front door. She didn’t think twice before pulling on her shoes and heading out the door. Her father was insane. He couldn’t do this to her. It was like he took joy from kicking her when she was down.

She headed down the street, her phone in hand. She could call a taxi, but then she’d have to pay with her credit card—the one her father paid. She could use a rideshare app, but again, her bank account was running on empty. The only money she had was in a shared account with her father, and there was little doubt in her mind that he kept tabs on every penny.

A growl escaped her throat as she called the one person she thought might be willing to give her a ride.