An Unlikely Rancher

by Roz Denny Fox

  The news that he camped out took Jenna aback. Barney had listed an address on the makeshift employment form she’d given him. He’d put the same address on his tax-withholding slip.

  “You live at a campground? Is that the address on your employment form?”

  He paused before shaking his head. “I use the address for the Legion Post. But I have a bank account in the town where I mustered out of the Army. My rocking-chair money gets directly deposited there. I just...well...haven’t had a permanent residence in years.”

  “Rocking-chair money?” Jenna slanted a questioning glance at Flynn, who had joined them.

  “I think he means his social security pay,” Flynn murmured as he shook hands with Barney.

  “Yep. Twenty years a sergeant and what I get from the government doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. But...I’m not tied down nine to five. I supplement when and where it suits me.” He toed down the kickstand on his bike. “So I’d better get right to it, Ms. Wood. I’ll still give you four hours today. Shall I start where I left off de-feathering birds?”

  “Uh, I had a problem this morning. The gates somehow got opened. All the birds got loose. We’ll have to recheck the ostriches for those already plucked. Unless you recognize those you did yesterday.”

  “What gates?”

  “All of them,” Flynn said.

  “No kidding? I was careful to close and check on the ones I went in and out of. How do you reckon they got opened up?”

  “We think—” A sharp jab from her elbow made Flynn stop.

  “Didn’t you mention needing to get ready for work?”

  Flynn frowned down at her. “In fact, I have a meeting with Mayor Curtis Parker at eleven.”

  As he started to turn away, she was quick to ask if it was about municipal flight regulations. “That prevent planes from flying low over farmland,” she added.

  He avoided looking at her.

  Why wouldn’t he acknowledge that his tenant was going out of his way to harass the ostriches? she wondered.

  “Last week the mayor contacted me about a group from Albuquerque he and the council would like to have hold a historic-airplane show here. Today he’s arranging a conference call with the show owners.”

  Andee stopped tossing the rubber ball for Beezer and turned to face them. “What are historic airplanes?”

  “They’re old planes,” he explained.

  Jenna frowned. “Does that mean a whole weekend of planes buzzing my ranch?”

  Flynn stiffened, then slowly shrugged his shoulders, still not meeting her eyes. “Usually air shows have stunt flyers, exhibitions. I don’t know if the historic planes are just for viewing or if their shows entail flights. There may be some offered.”

  Andee looped her arms around Beezer. “Did my daddy fly historic planes?”

  “He flew fighter jets,” Jenna said, still studying Flynn skeptically.

  “Was his plane old? Is that why it fell out of the sky?”

  “No,” Jenna said quietly. “He was in an accident while he was flying. The Air Force is looking into how it happened.”

  The men both gave off signals of wanting to leave. “I’ve got to shower and change,” Flynn finally said. “Barney, good seeing you. Andee, will you watch Beezer until I’m ready to go?”

  She bobbed her head. Her little face pinched with concern.

  Barney pointed to the pens. “I’ll, ah, go get started.”

  “I need to clean up the kitchen,” Jenna said. “Then I’ll be out to help. It should be fairly easy to tell if a bird has loose feathers.”

  “Didn’t you say tomorrow is egg collection day?” Barney asked as Flynn went into the house.

  “Every other day, actually. Every two weeks they go to market. I’ll phone the wholesaler Oscar Martin was contracted with. From his notes it appears his contract runs through this year.”

  She walked toward the pens with Barney.

  “I plan to crate the remaining eggs in the morning and load them into my SUV for delivery. I hope they’ll take our feathers at the same time.” She opened the shed and showed Barney the egg boxes.

  He eyed the stacks. “Okey-dokey,” he said as he pulled a pair of gloves from his back pocket.

  Jenna turned toward the house.

  “Mommy, can Beezer stay with me today?”

  “I think he always goes to work with Flynn.”

  “But if he’s going to a meeting, maybe Beezer can’t go.”

  “Well...” Jenna stalled until Flynn came out of the house. His hair was still damp from his quick shower. He’d changed into blue jeans and a black T-shirt. Both showed off his finely honed body.

  Jenna felt grungy by comparison.

  “Flynn, Flynn.” Andee ran up to him as he slipped on his sunglasses. “Can Beezer stay and play with me today? You said you have to go to a meeting.” The girl slid a hand under the dog’s collar. “Beezer would rather stay here.”

  Flynn laughed. “Oh, he would?” The man swiveled his head toward Jenna. “What does your mother think of a dog hanging around?”

  “Up to you. I made it clear to Andee that he usually goes to work with you.”

  “True. At the airpark he loves greeting the flyers. But I attended a council meeting once and he had to stay in an outer room. He’s a people dog.” Leaning down, Flynn ruffled the dog’s floppy ears. “Tell you what, today he can stay. Tomorrow, though, I’m planning to fly. Beezer loves going up with me.”

  Andee nodded as she clung to Beezer.

  As Flynn straightened and pulled out the keys to his pickup, Jenna said, “Tell Flynn thank-you, honey. He’s made your day really special.”

  “Thank you,” the little girl said. She waved when Flynn climbed into his pickup.

  The dog danced a little and whined, but settled after Flynn rolled down his window and said, “Stay, Beezer, stay.”

  Driving off, Flynn glanced in the rearview mirror. Jenna still looked rumpled from her early-morning ostrich chase. He liked that she hadn’t felt the need to do more than wash her hands and put on an apron before fixing breakfast.

  Dust closed off his view, and his mind turned to Saundra. She wouldn’t have chased ostriches without first putting on full makeup. Actually, Saundra wouldn’t have chased ostriches.

  Leaning an elbow out his open window, Flynn picked up his speed, lost in thought.

  Saundra had been the daughter of a friend of one of his mom’s friends, and so beautiful. She’d made him feel...something...when he’d been numbed by war. She had represented what he’d thought he was fighting for—to keep innocent people like her safe.

  The Albuquerque radio station he liked blared out the newest song by The Band Perry. As he turned up the volume, he recalled that his taste in Western music had caused friction between him and Saundra.

  He gave a snort.

  What hadn’t caused friction? Plainly, they’d had less in common than a couple should.

  He couldn’t blame his mom for setting him up—in fact, it had worked. His parents had been convinced he’d be better off on his next tour if he left behind someone he loved.

  It was romantic to think love kept soldiers safe. Sighing, he turned down the volume. How many devoted husbands and dads had he seen die on routine missions? A lot. Too many. His best friend, Chip, for one. Flynn didn’t know any guy more crazy in love or who had more looked forward to becoming a dad than Chip.

  He wondered about Jenna’s loss. He didn’t know any details about the accident that had claimed her husband’s life. Why would the Air Force still be looking into her husband’s accident? Air collisions usually only took time if there was a question of wrongdoing.

  A new tune began and he tapped his left thumb on the steering wheel in time to the beat. He should stick to his resolve and
stay the heck out of Jenna’s business.

  Reaching the commercial district, he parked near the courthouse and walked to the mayor’s office.

  Two city council members greeted him at the door. They shook hands all around before Mayor Parker directed them inside his office.

  “Let’s get right to it,” the portly man said, tilting forward in his chair. “If we haven’t said it before, Flynn, we’re all delighted to see you revitalizing what was once a thriving airfield. At the last council meeting, Dayton Hines said commercial development in a rural community like ours depends on private investors being able to land and store their corporate planes. By sponsoring this air show, our city is sure to grow.”

  Flynn rubbed his still-sore thigh. “I’ve never met Mr. Hines, although his son rents hangar space from me. Didn’t you say a portion of ticket sales would be earmarked for a local charity?”

  “That’s right,” the mayor rushed to say. “Now, son, we know you’re a veteran. We don’t want you to take this wrong...but the last couple of years our city park south of town has become a camp for homeless vets.” The mayor bounced his pudgy fingers together. “The charity we plan to fund will buy and staff a shelter for veterans.”

  Glancing at the three nervous but eager faces, Flynn rubbed the back of his neck, where he could feel a prickle of tension.

  “Tell me more about the show. How much of the proceeds will go to house the vets? And what’s needed from my facility?”

  “My contact up to now has been Dayton, but we can get the show’s owner on Skype to give us particulars.” The mayor buzzed for his secretary, who came in and, with a few keystrokes, set up the mayor’s computer for the conference call.

  The owner/promoter of the antique-plane show was congenial and a total airplane enthusiast. Flynn found himself quickly agreeing to hold the event.

  They signed off and the mayor pulled out a pad. “We’ll combine the air show with Pancho Villa Days. It’s already set for the fourth weekend in June.” He made several notes, then stood and came around his desk to clap Flynn on the back. “I have people who’ll print and distribute brochures. My secretary will send out a press release. We already have a carnival booked. They can set up on the road to your airpark. The weekend will be a huge family event.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As he left the office, Flynn pictured himself taking Jenna and Andee to the carnival and air show. Providing Jenna would go...

  Now, why would that be his first thought?

  Sobering, he jerked open the door, stepped out into the heat and ran smack into Don Winkleman, who pulled the woman he was with out of Flynn’s path.

  Perhaps because Jenna was still fresh on his mind, instead of asking to be excused, Flynn scowled. “Did you get a kick out of opening all of Jenna Wood’s gates last night? You’re lucky none of the ostriches was hurt.”

  “What are you talking about?” Halting his companion’s forward motion, Winkleman hitched up his pants and gaped at Flynn.

  “Come on. I’d heard you said she’d be sorry she fired you.”

  The other man shrugged. “Sure, I was steamed. I ran that place for Oscar Martin. But she paid me. I’ve no reason to drive out there since. You say her birds got out? Good to hear none were hurt.”

  Flynn simmered. Obviously, Winkleman lied like a rug. He unhooked his sunglasses from where he’d tucked them into the neck of his T-shirt. “Just so you know, I’m keeping an eye on her place.”

  Putting the glasses on, he brushed past the couple and strode down the street to his pickup. He should have stayed out of it. He had enough of his own stuff to contend with; why insinuate himself in Jenna’s trouble? Except that she had a big heart. And no one else had her back.

  Wheeling out of the parking lot, he drove straight to the airpark.

  He stopped next to Travis Hines’s sports car. As Flynn climbed out of his pickup, the kid left the hangar, talking on his cell phone. He met Flynn outside the office and stopped talking.

  “Hey, my dad just said you jumped on his idea to add an air show to Pancho Villa Days. Maybe he can finally bring in investors who’ll put this jerkwater town on the map.”

  “I’m more interested in ticket sales going to house our homeless veterans,” Flynn said coolly.

  “Oh, yeah. Get those old bums out of our park.”

  “Those men fought to keep this town, this country, safe,” he snapped.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Travis rolled his eyes as he sidled past.

  “Wait, Travis! The other day I suggested you pull up more sharply when you take off on the east runway. Today I saw you fly too low over the ostrich ranch. Maybe you noticed birds running loose and dropped down for a closer look, but airplanes scare the birds. So keep that in mind for future takeoffs, okay?”

  “You saw me? How? I went out before you got here.” Travis half turned back.

  “I was at the ostrich farm and I tried to wave you off. Didn’t you see me signal?”

  The kid didn’t respond. He delivered a stony look, stalked to his car, jumped in and roared off, leaving a rooster tail of dust in the wake of his shiny red Corvette.

  Shaking his head, Flynn unlocked his office. Even though Travis’s attitude irked him, he put that aside and settled down to do the paperwork he’d put off.

  It was as well he spent the day toiling over his books, because in the afternoon he rented two additional hangars to a co-op grain company. They had housed two crop dusters they leased to farmers at an airfield several hours’ drive away.

  Flynn had showed the men his facilities and given them maps of his runways. He’d waited at the field while they’d arranged to have the planes delivered. The men had assured him they didn’t store crop-dusting chemicals in their planes or in the hangars they leased. Since he’d known those materials were highly combustible, for his own peace of mind, he’d stayed to be sure they had told him the truth.

  It was dark by the time they’d shaken hands on the deal.

  He was hungry. It’d been hours since he’d eaten Jenna’s pancakes and eggs. Some stale potato chips had passed for lunch. He could swing into town and eat at the café, but he was tired and his leg ached. He hadn’t let on to Jenna that the spots where the doc had removed shrapnel hurt when he’d herded her flock. She’d seen, though.

  The way she’d engineered that and had also set out he-man bandages for his use led to why he’d judged her to have a big heart. Plus, she was a good mom. A good mom to a cute, precocious kid.

  Thinking about them made Flynn elect to skip the restaurant and go home instead. He had stuff in the fridge for a cheese sandwich or he could eat cereal. Jenna had replaced his Froot Loops. Remembering, he smiled. Then he frowned. He’d thought of Jenna’s house as “home.” Was he letting her get under his skin?

  He thought maybe yes when he drove down her lane, saw lights on in the kitchen and felt a ripple of warmth in his midsection. He parked, got out, locked his pickup and sorted out the house keys Jenna had given him.

  Trudging up the steps, he paused with the key poised over the lock on the kitchen door. It was late, well after Andee’s bedtime. Not so late that Jenna would have retired. Should he knock? He didn’t want to scare her. A knock could wake Andee or cause Beezer to raise the roof barking. And hadn’t Jenna provided him keys because she expected him to use them?

  He unlocked the door and went in.

  He registered Jenna at her kitchen table, a cup of some steaming beverage in front of her along with a stack of papers. She held a pen in her right hand. Her left forefinger twisted a strand of brown hair around and around.

  “You startled me,” she said, releasing her hair as she half rose.

  “You gave me keys.” He tossed the key chain from hand to hand and then pocketed it. “Well, it’s late. I’ll go on upstairs,” he said, deciding to f
orego food.

  Jenna looked far too enticing in cutoffs and a T-shirt.

  “Don’t rush off. I’m sick of crunching numbers. Would you like something to drink? I have tea. Or I can pour you juice or ice water. No doubt you’ve eaten by now, but I saved a plate of spaghetti and meatballs from our supper.”

  Flynn pulled out a chair opposite her and sat. “I didn’t eat. In fact I missed lunch. The thought of spaghetti and meatballs makes my mouth water.”

  “It’ll take a jiffy to reheat in the microwave. There’s garlic bread, too.”

  “Sounds fantastic.”

  Beezer stuck his head around the kitchen door. He gave a big yawn followed by an excited little bark and padded up to nudge Flynn’s arm.

  “Hey, guy. Were you a good dog today? I missed you. We got two new planes in,” he said at large.

  The dog leaned into Flynn’s brisk side rub, then padded off down the hall as abruptly as he’d showed up.

  Jenna turned from punching buttons on the microwave. “New clients are good. How did your air-show meeting go?”

  Flynn laced his fingers and bent them back until they popped. “We set a date. The last weekend this month... They, ah, will have wing walkers and other stunt pilots.”

  At the concern in her expression, he quickly added, “The show’s owner said they fly over open land.”

  She pursed her lips and he continued, “The mayor tied the air show to Pancho Villa Days, where they have food vendors, a carnival and now tours of old planes.”

  She didn’t say anything, but studied the food heating.

  “When did you last take Andee to a carnival?”

  “Never,” Jenna said. The microwave dinged. She removed the plate and set it in front of Flynn, turning to get him a napkin and silverware.

  He rubbed the side of his neck and studied her slender, curvy back. Her feet were bare. He found that very appealing. “I pictured Andee loving carnival rides and wanting to collect stuffed animals at the coin and baseball-toss booths. Surely you’ve been to carnivals.”

  “I grew up on Army bases. Mostly abroad. My mom took us to museums, ruins and the beach. We’ve never gone to a carnival, but I’m sure Andee would love the rides.”