The Rancher and the Rich Girl

by Heather MacAllister

  His assessing gaze had an unsettling effect on Jessica. “Try visualizing me in my gold hard hat with my name in script.”

  He laughed.

  “Hey, I’m proud of my gold hard hat. The crew manager gave it to me the first time they sent me out on my own.” Earning the respect of the Fremont personnel had meant everything to her. “Anyway, my estimates were always as accurate as Samuel’s were.” She grinned. “Even more so on the interior remodeling jobs because I knew to allow time for the clients to change their minds at least once if they’d picked some strange color or fixture.”

  Matt gazed at the damage. “Patch the hole and paint the barn white. Not much chance of me changing my mind.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t like a red barn?”

  “White paint is cheaper and doesn’t fade like the red.”

  Jessica nodded absently as she walked over and examined the stall with the rotten wood. She’d have to factor in roof repair, too. “I don’t know what local labor and materials run, but I can give you a rough estimate based on what it would cost in Wyoming.”

  “Labor will be free. We’ve got some experienced canvas men over in the village.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Old carny hands. They’d set up and break down the sites. This is nothing for them.”

  Jessica mentally added another four man-hours of labor. “I’m guessing that it was their elephant.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you want posts and boards to repair the fence, too?”

  Matt nodded. “Especially if I’m giving Sam riding lessons.”

  “Where is Black Star?” Jessica was surprised Sam seemed content with the zebra and the mule and little Sally. She’d thought he’d be after Matt to let him ride the horse.

  “Out back in the holding pen. He hates the zebra.”

  There were plenty of empty stalls in the barn and Jessica guessed that the ranch had once been much bigger.

  An unwelcome chattering sounded from above them. “Oh, great,” Jessica muttered.

  “Mom, can I have some money?” Sam asked immediately.

  “I don’t have any change,” Jessica reminded him as Caesar climbed down and perched on the railing.

  “Here.” Matt dug into the pocket of his jeans.

  There was nothing out of the ordinary about what he did, but Jessica found her eyes drawn to him, specifically to his jeans and the way he looked in them.

  Noticing broad shoulders was one thing. Noticing how a man filled his jeans was another. Admiring the way he filled them was definitely something else altogether.

  And was it so bad? Jessica let her gaze linger.

  Matt handed Sam a few coins, then held out his hand to Jessica.

  “That’s all right. I don’t mind losing some change.”

  “Better take them. Caesar can be a pest.”

  “Then I shouldn’t encourage him.”

  “You do whatever you think is best.” Matt took her hand, dropped the coins into it and closed her fingers over the change. “But when you’re about to go crazy, you’ll have these.”

  “Coin!” Sam shouted gleefully.

  The monkey sidled toward him and hopped from foot to foot.

  Maybe he’ll fall off when he does the spinning bit, Jessica thought hopefully, but Caesar was more agile than she gave him credit for. He turned around without falling and held out a hand to a delighted Sam.

  Biting the coin, he scampered back onto the rafters and disappeared out the vent in the top.

  “Where does he keep his stash?” Jessica asked.

  Matt shook his head. “I’ve never been able to find out. I tried following him, but he won’t leave until no one’s watching him.”

  He looked down at her with those dark eyes of his. Probably because of her recent wayward thoughts, Jessica felt awareness creep over her and...good heavens, she was going to blush.

  “Well, I’ll go get my laptop and figure that estimate for you,” she said, moving away from him.

  At that moment, a car horn sounded a few bars from the 1812 Overture.

  “What’s that?” An anticipatory grin on his face, Sam slid off the railing and ran through the elephant hole before Jessica could stop him.

  “That’s Krinkov,” Matt told her. “He’s Katya’s husband. He’ll be bringing something to patch this hole.”

  “And what did he do in the circus?”

  “Fire eater and he owned a carnival sideshow. Now he’s in charge of their animals.”

  And not doing a very good job, Jessica thought, but she said nothing as she and Matt stepped through the hole.

  An old powder-blue Cadillac honked the 1812 again and drove overland, through the damaged paddock, to park by the hole in the barn.

  “Why does he get to honk and I don’t?” Jessica asked, not expecting an answer.

  “Scheherazade likes that tune,” Matt told her. “The circus played it when they shot people out of cannons.”

  It figured.

  A man wearing loose-fitting trousers and a vest got out of the car. His gray beard and moustache were trimmed and curled, making him look courtly and old-fashioned.

  Telling the two men in the back seat to untie a hunk of brown canvas from the roof of the car, he gestured to the barn. “Matthew, what a mess, eh? But enough of that. Present me to your woman.”

  Courtly or not, Jessica had ignored the “your woman” bit long enough. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not anyone’s ‘woman,’” she said after Matt had introduced her and Krinkov had brushed his moustache against the back of her hand.

  “I should hope not. Matthew is an honorable man.”

  “Jessica brought her son to visit the ranch,” Matt said heavily.

  “Well, of course! You must court him, as well.”

  “No one is courting anyone,” Jessica insisted.

  Krinkov chuckled. “Matthew, she is impatient. You must begin your courtship at once.”

  The 1812 sounded again and they all looked toward the Cadillac. Sam had reached inside and was honking the horn.

  “Sam!” Jessica waved him away from the car.

  “The boy will help us hang canvas over the hole. Matthew, you will walk your lady back to the house. Take the long way.”

  Oh, good. She’d been upgraded to lady.

  “You, boy!” Krinkov gestured to Sam. “We need your help over here.”

  Sam ran over to the men who were unfolding the canvas. One of them said something to him, and Sam carefully walked along the seam to the middle and picked up the edge of fabric. All three carefully unfolded the final third.

  “He’ll be all right with Krinkov,” Matt said to her. “Shall we?” With a smile, he offered her his arm.

  Jessica took it. “I get the idea that arguing with them is fruitless, right?”

  “Pretty much.”

  They walked around the side of the barn and encountered Frank, who was carrying an assortment of tools. “And so it begins, eh?” He winked broadly.

  Jessica withdrew her arm as soon as he limped past them. “I’ll go on back to the ranch house and get that estimate for you.”

  * * *

  MATT KNEW HE SHOULD probably let her go and do just that, but he didn’t want to. “You can do that,” he said, “or you can spend a few more minutes walking with me and save me a lecture from Frank on how to woo a woman.”

  “Oh, poor you.” Jessica laughed but she stayed with him.

  She’d been a good sport about everything—better than he had any right to expect.

  “Does he lecture you often?”

  Matt looked off into the distance and smiled. “Every winter when their relatives come to visit and the circus takes a break from touring. There’s alwa
ys some girl they think would make me a good wife.”

  “And is there?”

  “There was one once.” He looked down at Jessica and discovered he had a hard time remembering the girl’s dark hair and laughing eyes. “She was in a tumbling act—some distant branch of Frank and Carmen’s family. But when it came right down to it, she realized that she was going to have to stay in this one place and decided she liked touring too much. A lot of the performers are like that.”

  Matt deliberately steered them in the direction of the pecan tree. Sheba was off prowling somewhere and the view toward the hills was particularly good from there.

  “How did the circus people ever end up on your ranch?”

  “Barnaby, the man who used to own this place, invited them. He used to be an old carny man himself. Either he won this ranch in a card game or got it from his brother. Maybe both. I don’t know. He was the least likely rancher I ever saw, but he seemed to get along okay.”

  “So where do they live? Are there many of them?”

  “You passed the turnoff to their village when you drove in on the main ranch road.”

  “I remember seeing that. It went into the trees.”

  Matt nodded. “There’s a natural ravine that cuts through the property, and unfortunately the highway you drove in on isolated a wedge of land off the northeast corner. That piece wasn’t good for much, since it was highway on one side and the ravine on the other. Barnaby let a couple of small circuses winter there, and after a while, some of the performers retired and stayed put.”

  “Looks like their animals stayed put, too.”

  “Where else could they go? Don’t get me wrong, it worked well for years because the circus people leased the land and it gave the ranch some income.”

  Now was another story, and one he didn’t particularly want to discuss with her. Part of him said Jessica was exactly the type of woman he’d hoped he could interest in sponsoring the place as an animal refuge. The other part just didn’t like asking someone for money.

  They fell into a comfortable silence and Matt felt her study him.

  “How did you end up here?”

  “Barnaby had some connection with Lost Springs. If you ask me, either he was there himself or had a son there. He never said. Some of the boys would come here in the summers and earn money. He was a little strange, though, and it got so the guys wouldn’t go. When I turned eighteen and left Lost Springs, this was where I headed. I knew he was having trouble keeping hands—”

  “Because of the circus people?” The breeze blew her hair against her cheek and she tucked it behind her ear.

  “Maybe.” Matt knew it was true. How many cowboys had lost their wages gambling with Krinkov and his cronies? “When I got here there were still several hands around, but they quit, and then it was just me. When Barnaby died about a year and a half ago, he left me the ranch.”

  They were near the tree. He knew that the three women in the kitchen were probably watching them and debated whether or not to tell Jessica.

  She was ignoring the view to talk about fence repairs.

  Matt didn’t want to think about any of it because the outlay was going to make a dent in an already dented bank account. “What would it cost to just patch the hole in the barn and shore up the beam?”

  Jessica looked surprised. “But the wood is rotten in the corner.”

  How could he explain to her? He gazed at her smooth, flawless skin, the attractive blond streaks in her carefully cut hair, the pale pink toenails and perfectly toned legs and knew that, working woman or not, she’d been too insulated from money worries to understand. “It’s a matter of financial priorities. Never buy new when you can patch old.”

  Her forehead wrinkled as she gazed over his shoulder at the barn. “You might be able to last another year if I do that, but then that whole side is going to collapse sometime. It’ll cost a lot more then and there’s no guarantee it won’t cause structural damage to the entire building.”

  She was right and he knew it. Matt leaned against the tree. He should have sold Black Star. “Then when you figure the supply order, use Redmond’s in Lampasas. They’ll give me credit.”

  “Let me see what kind of a price I can get going through Fremont accounts. I’ll deduct the cost from the money I owe you.”

  And that was another thing. This whole business of her paying him didn’t sit well. Matt exhaled heavily. “About that, Jessica. I can’t take your money.”

  “This isn’t the time for false pride,” she said bluntly. “You need the money.”

  “Maybe that’s why I can’t take it.”

  “We have discussed this. You would have had the money if you’d sold your horse.”

  Matt shook his head. “It’s too much.”

  She eyed him and Matt realized he was getting a sample of the way she must negotiate business deals. “You helped me out of a jam. We both know that asking for two weeks of your hospitality and time is way more than the organizers of the auction intended. I admire you for honoring your commitment, but I would be uncomfortable if I didn’t pay our way. Camp for Sam would have cost about two thousand dollars plus transportation fare and expenses. There are two of us, so double that. Call it five thousand. Will you take that?”

  Two thousand dollars for a kid to go to riding camp? Maybe Matt ought to look into a riding camp here as a sideline.

  “Deal?” she prompted.

  She made it sound so logical. Even better, she’d let him keep his pride. He’d never met anyone like her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  She smiled, revealing straight teeth almost as white as Katya’s. “I think that’s the first time someone said that to me and meant it as a compliment.”

  They shook hands. At the last minute Matt thought of the watching women and carried one of Jessica’s hands to his lips. He was about to explain about Lita and the others when he saw the expression on her face.

  She wasn’t laughing. Looking surprised, but pleased, she blushed and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  She hadn’t acted that way when the other two had kissed her hand.

  There must be something to Frank’s advice after all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A LOUD BANGING and clanking woke Jessica the next morning. Sunlight streamed in the window, but it was from the wrong angle. Disoriented, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Grabbing her watch from the nightstand, she was startled to see that it was past eight o’clock. She never slept this late. She’d gone to bed fairly early, too.

  It must have been the heavy chicken and dumplings dinner Lita had cooked last night, compounded by the stress and strain of the past week.

  She felt heavy-headed, but lighter at the same time. So what if she’d overslept? She didn’t have to set an example for anyone—didn’t have to worry about someone talking about her. She didn’t have to be the perfect Fremont, because no one here except possibly Matt even knew what or who a Fremont was.

  She stretched and looked around the former owner’s bedroom. The morning sunlight banished all the shadows from the dark paneled room and illuminated the furnishings. Opposite her in the corner was an interesting armoire, black with scrolling gold paint all over it. The words “The Amazing Molvano” arched over the top.

  What a strange place this was, she thought, admiring the carved wooden molding around the ceiling. Beautiful work. She wondered who had done it. Adding a craftsman of that caliber to the Fremont catalog would be a real coup.

  In spite of her resolve to relax, a little Fremont guilt was creeping into her thoughts. Didn’t ranchers get up at dawn? Sam would be disappointed if he missed even a minute of the day. Jessica slipped into her robe and crept down the hallway to his room.

  He wasn’t there, but his pajamas were in a heap on the floor and his bed wasn
’t made.

  This was lovely, she thought as she picked up after him. Matt would think she was a lazy dilettante and her son was a spoiled rich kid. This morning only, she’d make his bed. Then, they’d talk. Just because they were here and not at home didn’t mean he could abandon his chores.

  She was smoothing the old quilted spread when the banging started up again.

  It was accompanied by curses—in German, if Jessica wasn’t mistaken.

  Curious, she went directly to the kitchen to find Lita beating up on the stove. She tried a few knobs, then kicked the huge old white appliance.

  “What’s the matter?” Jessica asked, belatedly remembering that she was wearing a robe.

  “Stove don’t work, exceptin’ them two burners. Kickin’ sometimes helps.”

  “I haven’t seen anything that old in a long time.” Or that big. Jessica figured it was to accommodate cooking for all the ranch hands. The whole kitchen looked straight out of the fifties. It might even be older than that.

  One of the burners started to glow red. Muttering, Lita turned down the heat and put a covered pot on it. “Gas is better.”

  “I guess it’s what you’re used to,” Jessica said.

  “I’m used to a stove that don’t work.”

  If she didn’t know better, Jessica would suspect Lita of having a sense of humor. “Matt ought to get you a new one.”

  “I’ve been makin’ do. You want coffee?”

  “Please.” Jessica accepted the mug, then asked, “Are Matt and Sam around somewhere?”

  “Doin’ chores.”

  As Jessica sipped her coffee, she got an idea. “I’m going to order materials to repair the hole in the barn and the fence. Why don’t I order a new stove, too?”

  Lita stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll show you. Pour yourself some coffee and I’ll be right back.”

  Jessica retrieved her laptop, the Fremont supply catalog and a tape measure, and was back in the kitchen in time to see Lita set a gigantic cinnamon roll next to her coffee.