The Ranchers: Destiny Bay Romances Boxed Set vol. 1 (Destiny Bay Romances - The Ranchers)

by Helen Conrad

  Joe drove slowly. Horns honked and people waved. He seemed to know everyone in town. More than one friend did a double take when they noticed her sitting beside him in the cab. She glanced over to see how he was reacting to that sort of interest, but his face didn’t give her a clue, and she looked back out at the town.

  It would be fun to see her old house again. If only she could remember where it had been. She knew it was near a little mom-and-pop grocery store, and that there was a church on the corner....

  “Oh, could we... would you mind turning here and going down that side street?” she asked him quickly.

  There was a small white church that looked familiar. Maybe...

  “Just turn left and go to the end of the block. Thanks.”

  She studied the houses, looking for something she might recognize. But there were only two or three left that might date from her era. Half of the block had been razed and a huge apartment building hovered malevolently over the neighborhood. The other end of the block had been turned into a parking lot for a new supermarket. Carly turned, looking back. Could this have been her street? She would probably never know now.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked her, slowing to a crawl.

  “I...nothing.” She gave him a quick smile. “Sorry. You can go back to the main drag.”

  He glanced at her. She looked tense, sitting there on the edge of her seat. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to use the seat belt, but he held it back. Something about her just plain annoyed him, and he wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Hey, Joe!”

  Joe braked and backed up to where the teenage boy who had called out his name was standing beside his shiny but aging silver Firebird.

  “Hey, Trevor. How are you?” He turned to Carly. “Trevor Gordon,” he explained quickly as they stopped beside the tall, skinny and very blond young man. “He works for me on afternoons and weekends.”

  The boy’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Carly.

  “Uh, I’m fine.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I, uh, I was just giving Tracy Kramer a ride home from school.” He craned his neck a bit, trying to see better around Joe’s head. Carly’s presence was obviously a source of wonder to him.

  Joe smiled, enjoying the boy’s interest. No one in this town had seen him with an eligible woman since Ellen. In fact, probably no one could remember him ever with anyone else. He could easily introduce her, let Trevor know she was just someone he was hiring.

  But what the hell. Let him stew. Let the whole town wonder.

  “Hey, did you hear?’’ The boy gave up trying to see Carly and gazed intently at Joe. “The avocado rustlers hit the Abbott place last night.”

  “No. I hadn’t heard. Did they get much?”

  Trevor shrugged. “Darn near his whole crop of Haas, so I hear. I guess he’s about wiped out.”

  Joe nodded slowly, frowning. “We’re going to have to go through with setting up a patrol like the fellas have been talking about. And we’d better do it soon, before more of us get hit.” He put the car back in gear. “Say hi to your mom for me,” he said.

  “Right. Sure will.”

  They were on their way again and Joe glanced over at Carly one more time. Something caught in his throat as he looked at her. She’d taken the sunglasses off again and her silky hair was swirling around her in the breeze from the window. She looked almost surreal, otherworldly. He had a pang, wishing he had introduced her to Trevor and explained. No wonder the boy was staring.

  Damn it all, he didn’t know what he was doing with her anyway. She wasn’t going to work out. Anyone with half a brain could see that. Why was he wasting his time? When she’d said she was letting some poor sap who loved her wait while she ran off to figure things out he should have put on the brakes right there. He wasn’t running a drop-in center, after all. If he went out and hired all the women who were wandering around trying to “find” themselves, he’d have himself quite a harem.

  Well, he’d give her one night to see what taking care of two active youngsters was all about, and then he’d probably be giving her a ride back into town in the morning. There was nothing he could do about it now. He was more or less committed.

  The houses fell away and they were on the open road. Carly hadn’t realized they would be going so far out of town. But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it?—to be as far away from civilization as possible, out in the clean, fresh air. Sitting back, she breathed in the scent of orange blossoms and thought about her situation. Just a week before, she’d been riding in the back of a taxi as it fought heavy traffic to make a few blocks headway in the gridlock that was downtown Washington, D.C. And now, here she was, in a pickup truck, heading for a ranch, with the wind in her hair and not another vehicle in sight. Orange blossoms versus exhaust fumes. She had a feeling she was going to like this.

  What would Mark think if he could see her now? She almost giggled. He’d take it for granted she’d been kidnapped by a crazed lumberjack and feared for her life. He might even unbend enough to lift his cell phone and call the police to come rescue her.

  She shrank back against the seat at the thought, because that was exactly why she didn’t want anyone to know she was not only Carly Stevens, hometown girl; she was also Carolyn Stevens, supremely competent assistant to Congressman Mark Cameron, a rising star in Washington’s power circles. But that was in another life. And she wanted to keep that strictly separate from this.

  “Can you cook?” Joe asked abruptly, plunging her back into reality.

  “Well, of course.” Bagels and cream cheese. Frozen lasagnas. A box of macaroni and cheese. Spaghetti. Good old spaghetti. She could do that, as long as the sauce came in a jar. She looked around at the open fields and guessed there wasn’t going to be too much opportunity for take-out in this neighborhood.

  “I’ve got a cleaning lady who comes in twice a week. She takes care of washing the clothes, too. So you don’t have to worry about things like that. Just be there for the kids. Keep them fed and safe.”

  She nodded. That didn’t sound hard at all. She didn’t know much about children. She hadn’t had any contact with any since she had been a kid herself.

  “They go to school, don’t they?” That should mean her days would be mostly free—exactly what she needed.

  He nodded, and for just a moment she thought he was actually smiling. “Yeah, they go to school. They leave at about eight in the morning and the bus drops them off at home at about three-thirty. Today they’re playing at a neighbor’s until four.” He glanced at his watch. “Actually, they ought to be home by now.”

  She noticed he was pressing a bit harder on the accelerator, hurrying home now that he realized the kids were already there. For the first time she saw him as a father rather than just a large, very attractive man who didn’t like her much. It was something of a revelation and threatened to soften his edges, if he would let it.

  “How old are they?” she asked.

  “Beth is seven. Jeremy is six.”

  So young to be motherless. But they did have a grandmother, didn’t they? That ought to help.

  “And your mother lives with you?”

  His mouth seemed to tighten. “Yes. She stays in her own apartment on the third floor. She’s not well. She has a private nurse who drives out to check on her every morning. She won’t give you any trouble.”

  She settled back a little more into the big bucket seat and smiled to herself. This was going to work out beautifully. She could see herself spending her time wandering in the fields, listening to birds and gazing at the sky. She would have so much peace and space to think, she might be able to get things straight in no time.

  “And I suppose you leave for work about the same time the kids leave for school,” she mused.

  He glanced at her as though she were speaking Swahili. “I don’t ‘leave for work.’ I run a citrus ranch, remember? My work is right where I live. I’m in and out of the house a
ll day.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. Darn. She’d forgotten that. So she wouldn’t have quite as much privacy as she had thought. Still, he would be busy. It couldn’t be all that bad.

  He turned the truck down a side road lined with a windbreak of tall eucalyptus. Rows of small, neat trees with shiny green leaves and gorgeous orange fruit spread out for what seemed like miles. “Are these yours?” she asked, delighted with the scene.

  “Yup.”

  Bright green against a clear blue sky. She sat forward, pressing her hands to the dashboard. The tranquility was there. She could see it, sense it. Now if only she could absorb it.

  “What are those?” She pointed to a hill covered with larger trees. The leaves were more olive-colored and at first she couldn’t discern the fruit.

  “Avocados.” He glanced in the direction she’d indicated. “I’ve been nursing them along for years and we’re about to take our first paying crop off them.”

  “Avocados.” She let the word roll around on her tongue. She was glad she’d come.

  They passed through a huge wrought-iron gate that stood open and turned up a long, winding driveway. On one side were sheds; on the other, a barn and a set of stables. They finally stopped before a rather shabby residence.

  A small girl sat crying in the dust that must once have been a front lawn once. Tears had mixed with dirt and her face was a muddy mess. Joe jerked the truck to a stop and was out the door before Carly had completely taken in what she was looking at.

  “Bethy.” He knelt beside the little girl. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “I... I...” Huge sobs got in the way of the words. “Jeremy... he...”

  Joe’s hands clenched at his sides and his pulse throbbed at his temple. “What is it? Talk slowly. Tell me, Beth. What is it?”

  Carly was out of the truck by now, and coming up beside them. The little girl was trying to point.

  “The tractor...” she sobbed. “Jeremy...”

  Joe spun and stared at the large irrigation ditch running near the barn. One corner of an overturned tractor could be seen protruding.

  “Oh my God!” Joe cried, beginning to run. “Oh please, please God...”

  Carly was only just beginning to piece this tragedy together. The little boy must have been in the tractor when it went into the ditch. Her heart leapt into her throat, choking her, and she looked down at Beth, who was sobbing on the ground as though the worst had already been confirmed.

  Carly didn’t know children, but she knew misery. Reaching down, she scooped the child up into her arms and held her close, turning to look at where Joe was reaching the ditch and vaulting over the side.

  “It’ll be okay, honey,” she said soothingly, patting Beth’s back. “Your daddy will fix everything.”

  She looked down at the matted blond hair, fully aware that she might just be lying through her teeth. But Joe was the sort of man a person could lean on. And if he couldn’t fix this, who could?

  “Jeremy... he isn’t moving and I... I tried to call 911,” Beth managed to get out between sobs. “But the door was 1-1-locked. I couldn’t g-get in the house.”

  “It’s okay. You did your best.”

  The little girl turned her huge gray eyes up and stared at her, tears making wavy lines down her dirt-stained face. “Is Jeremy dead?”

  Despite everything, the words shocked her. Her heart gave a lurch and she had to look away for a moment.

  “No, no, of course not. Your daddy...” She looked out at the irrigation ditch. Nothing moved where she could see it. Her stomach fell away and she began to breathe a little faster. The little boy couldn’t be dead, not this suddenly. It wouldn’t be fair; it wouldn’t be right. She took a deep breath and said with all the conviction she could muster, “Your daddy will fix everything. Okay?”

  Staring up at her, Beth nodded. “Okay,” she said and took a deep breath, then put her head against Carly’s chest. “Who are you?” she asked simply.

  Carly held her close, working on pure intuition. “My name’s Carly. I’m going to be staying with you for a little while.”

  “Okay.” The prospect seemed to be one she was used to. “But Jeremy won’t mind you.”

  That was the least of her worries at the moment. She wanted to go out and see if she could help Joe, but she didn’t want to leave Beth alone. She stood there, torn, and then Joe was coming up over the ridge with a boy in his arms, a little body that lay limp and lifeless.

  Carly gasped and held Beth more tightly against her chest. Words stuck in her throat and she couldn’t call out to ask his condition. Instead, she held her breath and waited, everything suspended.

  “He’s breathing,” Joe said as he came toward them. “There’s a cut on his forehead. But nothing’s obviously broken.”

  She let the breath out in a rush and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them again, she realized he was heading straight for the truck and she turned and ran ahead to open the door for him with one hand while holding Beth with the other. Joe laid Jeremy on the seat, fumbling for the seat belt to strap him down securely, and Carly noticed how tenderly he touched him. The little boy’s face was white, his dark lashes long on his rounded cheeks.

  “I’m going to take him in to the emergency room,” Joe said evenly. “You can handle Beth, can’t you?”

  Carly looked at him and nodded. He was so calm, so cool, and yet there was a white line around his mouth, a throbbing pulse at his temple, that told her he was anything but calm inside. “Don’t worry—about us,” she said. “Get him to a doctor.”

  “Damn it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “If only I had been home on time...”

  Carly shivered. They both knew what had kept him. But he didn’t look at her.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Beth was crying again. “I tried to call 911. I really tried, but I couldn’t.”

  He barely gave her a glance and didn’t answer, swinging up into the truck and gunning the engine to life. Carly stood back as he left in a swirl of dust. Beth clung to her and cried again. Confused, Carly looked down at the little girl. So much had happened so quickly. Surely Joe hadn’t meant to snub his daughter. It was just that he was so worried about Jeremy, and he’d been in a hurry.

  “It’s all right, Beth,” she said soothingly. “Jeremy’s going to be fine and they’ll both be back in no time.”

  The little face was buried against her shirt. A sudden vision of the vast quantity of mud the face had carried when last she’d seen it flashed in Carly’s mind, but she dismissed the thought immediately. She wasn’t going to be concerned about clothes or fashion, not for one minute, while she was here. She was going to be real and natural. And if that meant taking on a little mud, so be it.

  “Let’s go in the house, Beth,” she said.

  The little head came away from her shirt and gray eyes looked up at her. “We can’t.”

  The face began to crumple again, but instead of returning to her hold on Carly, Beth let go and slid to the ground. She blinked rapidly, holding back her tears. “We can’t go in,” she said again, her voice shaking but strong.

  “Why not?” Carly asked, with a sinking feeling.

  “The door is still locked. Daddy forgot to let us in before he left.”

  Carly was beginning to notice a tendency to sag. It had been a long day, beginning in Colorado and ending here in central California. She was tired. She wanted a nice long soak in a tub, maybe a cool drink, some soothing music. What she didn’t want was to spend the next few hours in a dusty yard, waiting for Joe to get back, worrying about Jeremy, feeling guilty.

  “Well, what about your grandmother?” she asked, a note of desperation edging her voice. “Isn’t she home?”

  Beth nodded, rubbing her eyes with dirty fists. “She doesn’t come down. We’re not supposed to bother her.”

  Carly stared out at the endless sea of orange trees and wondered how long it was going to take her to get sick of the sweet smell of
the blossoms. Half an hour ago she would have said they were heavenly. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  This was nuts. There had to be a way to get into the house. She began to scout around the perimeter and noticed an opening. Luckily there had been a window left open in the kitchen. It only took a few minutes to convince Beth, and then Carly was able to hoist her up and through. The little girl got safely inside and then ran to the door and let Carly in.

  The inside of the house was almost as shabby as the outside. Dishes from breakfast had been left out, bowls with cereal hardening like cement clinging to their sides. But then, what could you expect? This was exactly what she had been hired to correct, wasn’t it? Although he hadn’t said as much, she was sure Joe wanted more than someone to look after the kids. He wanted the house back the way it was when his wife had been there. Carly had understood that from the first.

  But if she was going to get things in order, she would have to get the lay of the land. She walked quickly through the ground floor. The living room looked virtually unused, the furniture very nice, the decorations tasteful. Joe’s wife’s work, Carly imagined. From the looks of it, she had been a traditionalist with a touch of whimsy.

  The family room was where they actually lived, she guessed. There was a television and the floor was littered with books and toys and clothing. The den was basically bookshelves and a desk covered with papers.

  “Do you know which room I’ll be using?” she asked Beth.

  The little girl nodded and led her toward the stairs. “I guess you’ll have the same room all the ladies get,” she said.

  Carly hid a smile. “I guess so.” Then she frowned. “Have there been lots of them?”

  “Ladies?” Beth nodded, her hand on the banister. “They come to take care of me and Jeremy. But they don’t like us. So they go away again.” Her gray eyes were huge and candid. There was no particular sadness for all those ladies who had marched in and out of their lives. But Carly felt a tug at her heartstrings just the same.