Wrangling the Rancher

by Jeannie Watt

  “Just a bunny.”

  “One would hope.”

  He pulled on his jeans, then reached for his shirt draped over the chair where Max slept. He tugged a sleeve out from under the cat, who rolled over onto his back. Taylor sat up, pulling the sheets up to her chin as a guard against the crisp night air. Tiny as her bed was, she always missed him when he made the short trip across the driveway in the early-morning hours, keeping up appearances for his sister, who was probably well aware of what was going on.

  Aware and probably doing the “la-la-la, I can’t hear you” thing.

  Even if she was, she seemed to be okay with Taylor, who was teaching her to cook in the evenings. They’d had only a couple of sessions, but the lessons had gone well. Cole stayed far away from the kitchen, and Jancey mentioned that he’d once set the kitchen on fire as a kid. Since that time, he’d avoided anything but the most basic food preparations.

  “Good thing we had a cook at the ranch,” Jancey had said the previous evening as Taylor showed her how to make a quick pasta sauce using fresh tomatoes and basil, “or he would have gone through life eating fried meat and bagged lettuce. Oh...and canned soup. That’s also in his repertoire.”

  Now, Cole eased Max to the side so he could share the chair with the cat and pulled on his socks and boots. Taylor propped herself up on one elbow. “Are you sure you want to go to the trouble of moving a mattress?”

  He paused before pulling his second boot all the way onto his foot. “Too much of a commitment?”

  “Maybe?”

  He got up from the chair and came over to bend down over the bed and kiss her. “We agreed to being in the moment, and when I’m in the moment, I want to be comfortable.”

  It made sense. No reason for her to feel edgy. She tried a smile. It felt genuine. She was simply not used to this kind of situation—one that defied neat classification.

  She couldn’t sleep after Cole let himself out into the crisp early morning air for the short trip to his much-bigger bed. She turned on the electric heater and wrapped up in her robe, then settled into the chair with her laptop. The job search had become less of a priority during the past week and a half—since the time she’d first slept with Cole—but she had an interview with a Bozeman accounting firm later that day and she wanted to brush up on a few more company facts and figures before she got ready.

  She wanted this job. Her feeling of professional self-worth was taking a hit, while, ironically, her sense of personal self-worth was doing okay.

  How could it not, with a guy like Cole sharing her bed? He wasn’t a talker, but she knew she turned him on. Knew that he found their new relationship as satisfying as she did.

  What she didn’t know was how he planned to handle their future...any more than she did.

  A very good reason to stay in the moment.

  * * *

  “YOU KNOW,” JANCEY said as she set a cereal bowl onto the table where Cole was reading through the last batch of bank statements, “I don’t care if Taylor stays here.” Cole’s gaze jerked up, and his sister gave him an ironic look. “I mean, really. Why all the subterfuge?”

  Cole blew out a breath as he pushed the bank statement aside. Oh, yeah, this wasn’t uncomfortable or anything. “I guess because I wouldn’t be wild about you bringing a guy here.”

  Jancey filled her bowl as she considered his words, then carefully closed the cereal box. “I get that, but you two are thirty. Thirty.”

  “You’ll be thirty before you know it.” And Taylor was only twenty-eight.

  “And when I am, I won’t be sneaking around like a high school kid,” she said before twisting the cap off the milk jug.

  “Jancey?” She raised her gaze to his. “Tell you what. I’ll focus on my personal life and you focus on getting a job. Okay?”

  “Fine. Just close the door more quietly when you come in, okay? It always wakes me up.”

  He thought he had been closing it quietly.

  “Hey,” Jancey said after taking her first bite. “Do you know who owns that little white dog?”

  Cole breathed a quick prayer of thanks at the change of conversation. “Mrs. Clovendale’s sister. His name is Chucky, and he’s an escape artist.”

  “I think he’s cute. I caught him yesterday, but when I put him down, he took off. If I catch him again, I’ll take him home.”

  For all the good it’ll do. Cole smiled at his sister. “Are you ready for today?”

  She’d snagged an interview for a position as a warehouse worker for a local distribution company. The pay was good, the benefits were good and she’d be able to save a lot more for her schooling than she would have been able to do working on the guest ranch.

  “I am so ready. I researched the company, and I have some questions to ask them.” She jabbed her spoon into the cornflakes with a loud crunch. “And they hire summer after summer, so if I get on with them, then I can move back here next summer.”

  “Sounds like a job you need to land.”

  “Oh, I will land it.”

  She reminded him of Taylor during her string of interviews that had gone nowhere, but these were different circumstances. Magnus Distributing hired summer workers to load and drive. They weren’t expecting their hires to be there forever, as US West Bank had.

  “I’ll wish you luck now. I have to mow the edges of the field today. Weeds are popping up fast.” And Taylor had an interview later that day in Bozeman.

  Bozeman wouldn’t be a bad place for her to land. A little more than a three-hour drive away, it might make Taylor feel more secure as she worked through the situation—give them both some autonomy and time to decide if they wanted to move forward with this thing that was growing between them. Whether Taylor liked it or not, it was growing.

  It’d been a long time since Cole had felt this kind of connection with a woman, and the fact that it was Taylor blew him away. The princess had turned out to not be such a princess after all. She still had an air of privilege about her, but now, instead of putting his back up, it made him want to play with her, bring her down to earth. As she relaxed and as they worked, he saw more and more of the down-to-earth side of her. Saw it and liked it.

  Wanted more of it.

  If she returned to Seattle, what would happen to down-to-earth Taylor? Would she disappear as business Taylor took over again?

  Or maybe once freed, she was there forever.

  Maybe she wasn’t so anxious to go back to Seattle anymore...

  Cole pushed the thought aside and headed out the door to his tractor. When he passed the bunkhouse, he could hear the shower running. Taylor was getting ready for her interview, and he wasn’t going to distract her, as tempting as that thought was. He’d wished her luck last night in the best way he knew how, and now it was all on her.

  * * *

  “I THINK I nailed it,” Jancey said as she chopped onions for the beef stew that she and Taylor were making that night. When she’d reminded Cole a few nights ago that she was supposed to be earning her keep, he’d suggested she give Jancey cooking lessons, since his sister was determined to learn to cook and the results were closer to miss than hit. “The interview, I mean.”

  She scooped the onions into a pan, and they began to sizzle and pop. “You want to cook these slowly.”

  Jancey bit her lip and adjusted the burner. “Right.” Once the onions stopped popping, she glanced over at Taylor. “How’d yours go?”

  “Well.” Her interview had gone well, but she hadn’t been wild about the company or the committee that interviewed her. Still, she needed to get back into her own world. A place where she felt as if she belonged.

  “But...”

  “Not my kind of company.”

  Jancey stopped peeling a carrot. “What was wrong with it?”

  “Hard to expl
ain.” Especially for someone so hard up for employment. “It felt wrong. I’d take a job there if offered, though.”

  “For a place you don’t love?”

  “It’s a job,” she said.

  “That’s where I am, too. I used to love working for the ranch. Then my uncle died and Miranda went all power mad.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that story.

  “She looked as if she’d be a difficult person to work for.”

  Jancey held the burger over the pan and glanced over her shoulder at Taylor, who nodded. The burger went in with the onions, and Jancey started stirring.

  “Add the chili powder now while the burger browns. It creates more flavor.”

  “Mmm.” Jancey’s eyebrows lifted, and then she started measuring out the powder. “She’s into messing with people’s heads. If someone pisses her off, and trust me, that’s not that hard to do, then she starts making life difficult.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, take my calves, for instance. I always raise the leppies. It’s been my job since I was twelve, unless there are too many for me to handle. But since we don’t have that many cows anymore, that hasn’t happened lately. Anyway, she made certain that I was miles away from where I needed to be at feeding time. I started paying Matt to feed them, and when she caught on, she started doing the same with him.”

  “That sounds...”

  “Psycho? Totally. Matt and I used to talk about it—when we were miles from the ranch. Miranda has spies.”

  Before meeting the woman, Taylor would have thought Jancey was exaggerating. Spies in business, yes. Spies in a family-run guest ranch... What would have seemed far-fetched now seemed entirely possible.

  “It’s a good thing you got out of there.” Safe thing to say. Taylor didn’t want to get too deeply into Cole’s business, but she felt protective of him and his sister—both of whom should probably be living on their ranch right now. Cole enjoyed his farming, but as he’d told her late the night before, he could also farm on his ranch if Miranda hadn’t nixed that. She’d said that plowed-up fields, small though they were, were not conducive to the guest experience.

  “I hated leaving home, but...” Jancey pressed her lips together hard.

  “It no longer felt like home.”

  “She took that from me. I guess that, even more than the thing she pulled with the college, makes me kind of hate her.” She gave a small sniff and started stirring the onions with a vengeance. “And I don’t want to hate anyone.”

  * * *

  THEY ATE EARLIER than usual that day. Jancey had paced the kitchen as dinner cooked, staying close to the phone, which remained stubbornly silent. Finally, at 4:45 p.m., she announced that the stew was done. Cole could hear the disappointment in her voice, but managed to quell the urge to tell her that no news was good news. Trite sayings never helped, so instead, he ate two bowls of stew.

  “I did it all,” she said, when he complimented her on the meal. “Cooking is a lot like chemistry lab, only you don’t have to measure so carefully. And you want to watch how hot the burner is.”

  He was guilty of the same hot-burner crime. Impatience ran in the family.

  Silence fell between them and then Jancey let out a sigh. Cole reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

  “You know, it’s sometimes worse if you get an answer right away.”

  “I know. But I’d hoped to get a job nailed down fast...to show Miranda, if nothing else.” She smiled a little and picked up her bowl.

  “I’m doing dishes,” Cole announced.

  She gave him a “for real?” look and he nodded. “Thank you.”

  After Jancey left the kitchen, he started loading the dishwasher, shooting looks out the kitchen window toward the bunkhouse as he worked. He saw the occasional shadow cross in front of the muslin curtains and wondered if he should slip over in broad daylight, since Jancey was on to them, or follow the usual routine of easing out the back door—and apparently not closing it quietly enough—around ten.

  The debate ended when Jancey’s phone rang at five thirty on the dot.

  He heard her answer it in the other room before it had a chance to ring again, and, judging from the breathless quality of her hello, it had to be Magnus Distributing. He edged closer to the doorway, openly eavesdropping. He heard a smile in her voice as she said, “No, this isn’t a bad time.” And then there was a silence. Too long of a silence.

  “I see.” The broken quality of his sister’s voice almost broke him. He took an instinctive step forward, then caught himself and stayed where he was. “I’m not certain why that would be,” she said. “I see. Yes, I know there were many applicants.” She cleared her throat, and his heart swelled as she said, “I would appreciate if you kept my application on file. Thank you.”

  A second later Jancey came out of the living room still holding her phone, looking as if she’d been blindsided.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Some kind of trouble with my references.”

  Cole tamped down the instant flare of anger, doing his best to keep his voice level as he said, “All of your references were from the ranch?”

  “One was my guidance counselor.”

  “The other two?”

  “Beth and Raul. I didn’t think they’d tell Miranda.”

  “She may have found out some other way.” Magnus did business with the ranch.

  Jancey closed her eyes, and Cole could see that she was fighting to not cry in front of him. “What if...” Her voice cracked, and Cole reached out to pull her into his arms, rocking his little sister as she said, “She knows everyone. Lots of people like her. What if...”

  What if she ruined every job Jancey applied for.

  The sick thing was that she may well try, even if Jancey removed all the ranch references from her applications.

  “She has sway, kiddo, but she’s not all powerful.”

  Jancey stepped back, rubbing her eyes. “Someone should tell her that.”

  “I volunteer,” he said darkly, and his sister gave a sputtering laugh. “Don’t. She’ll figure out a way to use it to her advantage.”

  There was a light knock on the door, and Jancey gave him a wry look. She was doing her best to put a brave face on a sucky situation. “Whoever could that be?”

  He tweaked her nose, as he had when she was six, and then called, “Come on in.” By the time he got back to the kitchen, Taylor was already inside.

  She bounced a look between him and Jancey and said, “What happened?”

  “I was screwed over by a superbitch,” Jancey said as she headed for the fridge and pulled out a half-pint of ice cream. She took three bowls out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. Taylor crossed the kitchen, put the bowls back, opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a single spoon, which she handed to Jancey.

  “If you’re going to do it, do it right.”

  Jancey gave a choked laugh, and then Taylor led her to the table, waiting for her to sit before taking her own seat. “Tell me what happened.”

  Jancey set down the spoon beside the ice cream container and launched into a brief account of her phone call. Taylor listened, her expression going grim by the end.

  “I’m afraid that she’s going to keep doing this,” Jancey finished.

  Taylor nodded, then studied the table between them for a few long moments, and Cole found himself halfway holding his breath as he waited to hear her take on matters. “You can confront Miranda on this, which is, of course, what she wants. People like her feed on that kind of stuff.”

  “I wouldn’t mind confronting her,” Jancey muttered, peeling the top off the ice cream container.

  “Or you ignore her. Continue job hunting in spite of her maneuverings.” One corner of her mouth tilted up. �
��I’ll bet money that Miranda hates being ignored.”

  “I kind of need references,” Jancey said in a dark voice.

  Taylor glanced up at Cole then back to Jancey. “I think you should call my grandfather and see what he suggests. Miranda’s not the only person with connections in this town.”

  “Culver Ranch and Feed,” Cole said.

  They both turned and looked at him.

  “Culver’s was looking for a warehouse person when Taylor first showed up. They might have an opening.” Cole decided against telling Taylor that Cal had thought she should go to work there.

  Jancey’s eyes widened. “I haven’t dropped off an application there.”

  “Do it,” Taylor said. “Tomorrow.”

  “I will.” Jancey started to smile, but it stalled out. Taylor pushed the ice cream toward her.

  “You have to have faith in yourself and your ability to overcome, because no matter how many plans you make, life seems to happen.”

  * * *

  TAYLOR LEFT COLE and Jancey making plans as well as backup plans and walked across the drive to the bunkhouse that now seemed more like home than it really should have. As soon as she got inside and changed into her flannels and an oversize T-shirt, she dialed her grandfather.

  He was doing well. Her aunt was doing well. He didn’t know when he was coming back. Dillon was growing on him, but he did miss his old friends.

  “I have a favor to ask,” Taylor said.

  “Yeah?”

  She gave him a rundown of everything that had happened with Jancey and Miranda. “Do you think you could have a word with your friend who runs Culver Ranch and Feed? Make sure that Miranda doesn’t screw up this deal, too?”

  “I can just about guarantee you that Jancey has a job.”

  “That would be good, Grandpa. She’s a decent kid and just wants to make money for school.”