Falling for the Rancher

by Tanya Michaels

  “The money’s not for you—it’s for that baby of yours. Give him a hug for me.”

  With a sigh, she tucked the cash into the zippered pouch she wore belted around her waist. Then she kissed Will on the same cheek that the blonde had.

  After Amy was gone, Jarrett asked, “You two aren’t...?”

  Will sat back in his chair, his expression appalled. “Hell no. I think Amy was a junior or sophomore when my younger brother graduated. She’s just a kid. With a kid of her own.” Frowning, he watched her clear empty bottles from the next table. “Her apartment got hit by lightning in a storm last month, and I helped put out the fire. Frankly, I’m almost glad it happened.”

  Jarrett’s eyebrows shot up. “Because it broke up the monotony of a slow week?”

  “Because Amy had to temporarily move in with her mom while the damage was being repaired. Living at home helped her break things off with her loser boyfriend. The guy’s bad news. Cole’s pretty sure he deals drugs but hasn’t been able to prove it yet.” Will’s older brother was the town sheriff. “The night of the fire, Amy had a bruise on her arm she claimed was from banging into the kitchen counter while trying to heat a bottle. Except, the bruise was in the shape of fingers.”

  The thought of a woman being hurt made Jarrett ill. “She have a dad or big brothers to look out for her?” Maybe someone needed to have a conversation with her ex.

  “Just a self-appointed, honorary brother tipping her with fives and tens when I can.”

  Even though Will had called the waitress a “kid,” as a mother providing for her child, she was more of a grown-up than Jarrett was. He would be thirty in a few years, but up until July, he’d been dancing through life with no real responsibility.

  “Speaking of siblings,” Will said, “how’s your sister doing?”

  “She’s...” He took a long swallow of beer, unsure how to answer. Certainly Vicki had improved since her days in the hospital, when she’d been pale, listless and unable to even sit up. Sierra was hoping to transition her to a walker, and he was grateful for every bit of progress. Yet it was still difficult to believe that the exuberant girl who’d always taken the front porch stairs two at a time couldn’t climb any stairs at all. If going in through the carport hadn’t already been an option, they would have needed to build a ramp for her.

  Then there was the damage done to their relationship. How long would it take to rebuild the trust and camaraderie? When he’d impulsively said he was going out for the evening, he’d hoped Sierra and Vicki would continue to bond in his absence—maybe watch one of those mushy movies that Vicki and his mom always sniffled through but that made Jarrett restless for the end credits. But she’d been so sullen when he left, glaring with unspoken accusation. Did she think he’d pawned her off on Sierra so that he could pick up a woman and make up for lost time?

  “Damn,” Will said softly. “That bad?”

  “We hired a therapist to stay at the ranch for a few weeks. She seems to really know her stuff, so maybe Vicki’s next big milestone is right around the corner.” He wondered if his smile looked as fake as it felt.

  “Local buzz was that you were hiring Lucy Aldridge.”

  “My parents and I discussed that, but we went in a different direction.” Jarrett thought about Sierra’s red-gold hair and frequent warnings not to incur her wrath. Very, very different. He just hoped it wasn’t a direction he would regret.

  * * *

  SIERRA ENTERED THE kitchen bright and early Monday morning. Technically, she thought, stifling a yawn, dark and early.

  She was greeted by the heavenly aroma of coffee and resounding silence. The mug and cereal bowl in the sink attested that Jarrett had been there, but apparently he’d already headed out to tackle ranch chores. She’d barely seen him since his abrupt departure from the house Saturday. Yesterday, he’d taught riding lessons for most of the afternoon and told them not to wait on him for dinner. Sierra almost felt as if he were avoiding her.

  Which makes you either paranoid or conceited. He could just as easily be avoiding Vicki, pained to see his sister in a handicapped state. Or maybe Sierra was overthinking the matter and he was just really busy. After all, the Twisted R was over a hundred acres, and Jarrett was taking care of everything by himself. If his daily schedule were leisurely, he wouldn’t have needed to hire her in the first place.

  Hours later, as she was fixing lunch, he came in through the side door off the kitchen, which made her feel silly about her unfounded suspicions.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” she said, “because—”

  “I am, actually, but I’ll grab a bite in town. I’m making a run to the feed store, then picking up some lumber.” Then he was gone as quickly as he’d appeared.

  Apparently, he hadn’t even taken the time to say goodbye to his sister before leaving the ranch. When Sierra and Vicki sat down to eat, the girl barely touched her homemade soup or grilled cheese sandwich; she was too busy glancing at the door every few seconds. Obviously, she’d expected—hoped?—that Jarrett would join them.

  Sierra followed her gaze. “If you’re waiting on your brother, he had some errands to run.”

  “Oh.” Vicki’s shoulders slumped.

  Sierra bit the inside of her lip, wondering if he knew how disappointed his sister was not to spend more time with him. “I guess the ranch keeps him pretty busy,” she said, hoping to ease the sting of his absence. “Seems like a lot of hard work.”

  “Yeah.” Vicki dragged a spoon through her soup, making little swirls in the broth. “Must be nice.”

  It was one thing to envy Jarrett a night on the town, but was Vicki really jealous about the hours he spent patching fences or baling hay? She’s bored out of her skull. Sierra was not a dull person, but not even her companionship could replace the entire sophomore class at Vicki’s university.

  There were gaps in the nineteen-year-old’s day. As much as Sierra liked to goad her patients into giving maximum effort, overdoing the exercises would only complicate recovery. Between sets, Vicki had to take it easy. Physically, anyway. They needed to find her something more mentally challenging than daytime TV.

  It would be best if Vicki had her own project during the hours when Sierra was tracking down job leads, cleaning or grocery shopping. The idea was for the two women to work as a team, not spend so much time stuck in each other’s company that they got sick of each other. Maybe Vicki could take some online courses to help catch up to her classmates? Not that Sierra could authorize such an expense. She needed to discuss options with Jarrett, maybe tonight after dinner.

  And if he kept making himself scarce? Then she’d just have to track him down.

  Chapter Seven

  Sierra squinted into the dusk, her resolve momentarily faltering. Were there snakes out there? She had no idea. But cow patties were inevitable.

  So watch where you step. She was carrying a flashlight in one hand and a bagged roast beef sandwich in the other. Jarrett had missed dinner for the third night in a row; when it had become clear that he wouldn’t be there, Vicki had looked as if she might cry. It was time Sierra and her employer had a chat.

  Randomly wandering one hundred and fifty acres in search of him would be a fool’s errand, but the light spilling from a huge barn let her know where she could find him. Marching down the porch steps, she headed in that direction and tried not to think about the coyote howls she’d heard in the distance last night. At least, she hoped they were suitably distant.

  The dogs trailed along beside her, probably drawn by the smell of roast beef, and she was comforted by their presence. “You’d let me know if there was anything in the dark to worry about, right, Sunshine?”

  The retriever perked up at the sound of her name.

  “If the two of you keep me safe from critters,” Sierra promised the dogs, “there are yummy scraps
of roast beef in your future.”

  Despite the dimness of the evening around her, it wasn’t so dark that the stars were truly visible yet. She bet they were spectacular this far from any city, and she made a mental note to stargaze one night. Might as well take advantage of the view before she returned to her regularly scheduled urban life. Who knew when she’d ever fall this far off the beaten path again? She heard a horse whinny and grimaced. Definitely not my kind of place.

  There weren’t any horses in the fenced paddock outside the barn. Vicki had said something yesterday about them spending daylight hours in the pastures and being stabled at night. Sierra could tolerate being near one if it was safely on the other side of a stall door. Still, when another horse nickered in reply to the first, she felt a phantom pain along her spine, tightening her lower back and making it momentarily difficult to move forward. Screw that. You are Sierra Bailey.

  Shoulders squared, she stomped into the barn with more gusto than tact. “Are you avoiding me?”

  Several equine heads turned her way, their long faces poking over stall doors, their eyes dark and huge. She swallowed hard.

  A stall door to her left swung open, and Jarrett emerged, looking perplexed. “One of the mares we board is a little high-strung,” he said softly. “As a general rule, I encourage people to use calm, soothing voices.”

  “Sorry,” she said, matching his tone. She held up the plastic bag as a peace offering. “I brought you some dinner. We weren’t sure when you’d make it back to the house.”

  His gaze zeroed in hungrily on the sandwich. “Thank you. I was so busy giving these guys hay for the night I didn’t realize I was starving.” After latching the stall door closed, he stripped off the pair of work gloves he’d been wearing and reached forward to take the food.

  Then he walked toward the back of the stable, gesturing with a head tilt for her to follow. There was a small wooden bench built into the far wall. She took a seat while he washed his hands at a sink around the corner. Was there enough room for him to join her? They’d have to sit very close, a prospect that seemed simultaneously tantalizing and ill-advised. She was glad when he sat a few feet away on a bale of hay.

  “What’s this about me avoiding you?” he asked, unwrapping his sandwich.

  She really should learn diplomacy someday. “Well, uh, I’ve been here three nights, and in that time you haven’t come to the house for supper once.”

  “You do understand these horses don’t groom and feed themselves, right?” He looked annoyed. And sweaty. And far more comfortable in his own skin than the reserved man who’d first interviewed her. In this setting, he—

  What is wrong with you? She didn’t like barns or horses or the smell of hay. It was completely illogical that she’d be drawn to a cowboy with scuffed boots and a streak of dirt across the upper thigh of his jeans. Realizing that her gaze had dropped to his lap, she jerked her head up, feeling as twitchy as that mare he’d mentioned.

  “Let me start over,” Sierra said. “I approached this wrong because I was a little jumpy about walking in the dark and—”

  “Maybe you should’ve stayed inside the well-lit house.”

  “Trust me, I’m all for well-lit houses and indoor plumbing and air-conditioning. I wouldn’t venture out among the mosquitoes and cow pies without good reason. And Vicki is my reason.” She took a deep breath, reminding herself of her purpose. Best to focus on her patient’s well-being, not Jarrett’s denim-clad thighs.

  He leaned forward, his expression tense. “Is she okay? Did something—”

  “Nothing happened. I just needed to talk to you about her frame of mind. Maybe this isn’t the ideal time and place, but for two people who live in the same house, we don’t seem to run into each other much,” she said wryly. Before he could turn defensive, she added, “I’m sure that’s because the ranch keeps you so busy. But your sister...” She recalled Vicki’s haunted expression at dinner as she once again spent an entire meal staring at the door instead of eating. “Are the two of you close?”

  He stiffened. “Did she say something? About me?”

  “Not specifically.”

  “Oh.” His gaze dropped to his sandwich, but he didn’t take another bite. If the Ross siblings didn’t start eating more, Sierra was going to get a complex about her cooking. “There’s a pretty big gap in our ages.”

  Was that his way of explaining why he and his sister didn’t spend more time together? Sierra had dealt with her fair share of evasive answers from patients who didn’t want to admit that they’d been slacking off; she knew guilty undertones when she heard them. “Age difference aside, she seems like she really misses you.”

  That got his attention. His eyes lit with something almost like hope, but then he shook his head. “I doubt it. And, as I said, the ranch keeps me busy.”

  “Are you one of those people who get uncomfortable around anyone who has a handicap?” she asked impatiently. “Because Vicki will be in that wheelchair for—”

  “I assist with equine therapy for disabled kids and adults, and you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Oh, good—she’d misjudged her boss and angered him. She could just apologize and leave, except that retreating wouldn’t do anything to improve Vicki’s situation. She took a fortifying breath, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the prevailing horsey smell, and gave her best attempt at a conciliatory smile. “One of the things your sister did say was that you’re lucky to have so much to do. I think she’s bored and feeling a little useless.”

  “Of course she is.” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “She should be at college, not cooped up in the house. This is all my—”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence for Sierra to understand that he blamed himself. Sympathy tugged at her. She’d been told Vicki was driving alone and had been hit by a drunk driver. Did Jarrett have any rational reason to feel guilty? Then again, emotions didn’t always adhere to logic. This inappropriate impulse she was feeling right now to go hug him, for instance...

  She cleared her throat. “Is there some kind of project we can give her? Something truly beneficial, not busywork that makes it seem like we pity her.” Patronizing her would only court the young woman’s resentment. “Do you know I’ve heard three different people in town call her ‘poor Vicki’?” Earlier, Sierra had wondered if an online class would be good for her patient. Now she reconsidered. Vicki needed something less solitary, something that would demonstrate to the people of Cupid’s Bow—and to herself—that wheelchair or not, she was a smart, capable woman.

  Jarrett scowled. “Surely no one would be dumb enough to say that to her face?”

  “Whether they do or not, the sentiment is there. What can we do to change it? Is there some kind of local charity she could volunteer with, or—”

  “There’s the Harvest Day Festival,” he said. “It’s an annual event the last weekend in September. Basic fall celebration—hayrides, face paintings, pumpkin-carving contest. My friend Will and I were just talking about it the other night. The place where we normally hold it is out because of construction on the new courthouse in downtown Cupid’s Bow.”

  She managed not to snicker at the idea of a “downtown” in a place that probably had only four city blocks.

  “They’ve relocated it to a park, so—according to Will’s soon-to-be sister-in-law, Kate—it’s taking more planning than normal since they have to refigure the layout. Maybe Vicki could help? She’s lived here her whole life and knows that park like the back of her hand. Or, the committee’s always making calls asking for different donations and recruiting people to emcee the square dance or judge the Harvest Queen contest. Vicki can phone call with the best of them.” His mouth tilted upward in a half grin. “Trust me, I’ve seen some of her cell-phone bills.”

  “This sounds really promising,” Sierra said, fe
eling a burst of optimism. “Any idea who we’d talk to about getting her signed up?”

  “Kate’s on the committee, but Becca Johnston is probably running it. That woman is in charge of half the stuff in town. Start with her. But if she says anything to you about a bachelor auction, my answer is no. Unequivocally, emphatically no. I’m still not sure how the hell she talked me into that at the Watermelon Festival.”

  “You were in a bachelor auction?” Had he worn his standard uniform of jeans and boots, or had it been one of those charity events where they paraded the bachelors in tuxes? She studied him from beneath discreetly lowered lashes, trying to imagine the tall cowboy in a tuxedo. Ross. Jarrett Ross.

  “Once. Against my better judgment. Never again.” As if to underscore the finality of his decision, he stood. “Thanks for the sandwich, but if I don’t get back to work, I’ll be here all night.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You came out here with Vicki’s best interests at heart, and that means a lot to me. She means a lot to me.” He expelled a heavy breath. “To answer your earlier question, we were close. Before.”

  “You will be again.” That was a rather ballsy statement, considering she didn’t even know the cause of their rift. But Sierra’s entire career—pretty much her life—was based on the belief that wounds could be healed, given sufficient time and effort. “Try to join us for dinner tomorrow?”

  His silvery eyes held hers for a long moment. “I’ll try.”

  Well. It was a start.

  She took a few steps forward, subtly glancing around to see if the dogs were nearby. It was a lot darker out now than it had been when she’d arrived, and she wouldn’t mind the canine escort back to the house.

  “Everything okay?” Jarrett asked from behind her.

  “Absolutely. Just fine. I—”

  A black-and-white horse suddenly poked its head through the stall, as if curious about their conversation, and Sierra jumped, flinching away from the giant nose and flaring nostrils.