An Unlikely Rancher

by Roz Denny Fox

  “You didn’t do amusement parks? I thought you lived in Florida.”

  “Andrew didn’t like crowds. On his rotations home he wanted to stay home. He was preparing for a seventh tour in Afghanistan when...he...his accident occurred.” Jenna twisted her hands on the table.

  “Uh, this spaghetti is great,” Flynn said, digging in to this meal.

  “Andrew didn’t always hibernate. I believe going on so many tours changed him. You haven’t asked, but his accident is being investigated as pilot error. His. There were rumors he got into a shouting match with a Navy pilot. Even if it turns out to be true, it’s not how I want Andee to remember her dad.”

  “I get that. My best friend’s wife doesn’t understand why her husband died in our crash and I didn’t.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “She was pregnant, about to have a baby, and I’ve only visited her once.” He shook his head. “I guess I felt guilty for making it out when Chip didn’t.”

  “Did your leg injury cause your discharge?”

  “No. I got out to avoid being stuck at a desk job. Unexplained high blood pressure would have eventually grounded me. It still may,” he muttered, polishing off the last of his food. “The doctor wants me to take pills. I can’t. My flying license runs out at the end of the month. If I don’t pass the flight physical, I can’t teach flying. I have to pass, that’s all.”

  Rising, he took his plate to the sink and rinsed it off.

  Jenna stood and moved to stand beside him at the sink. “Maybe worrying is aggravating the problem.”

  “Could be,” he said slowly, inhaling her sweet scent. Flynn didn’t know if it was perfume or shampoo.

  Their arms brushed as she put the dish in the dishwasher.

  His breath stalled. “I, uh, should go up. Thanks for feeding me.”

  Jenna straightened and smiled.

  Flynn did something totally unplanned. He grasped her damp hands and kissed her.

  He’d meant to drop a light kiss on her brow. But her eyes had widened and she’d lifted her head. His kiss landed squarely on her lips. She tasted like the mint tea she’d been drinking.

  When she didn’t pull away, he slid his hands to her waist as their bodies came together. All the pieces fit fine.

  He could have kissed her longer, but Jenna set her hands on his chest. From a distance Flynn heard her make a sound. Perhaps an attempt to take a breath. It was enough for his brain to kick in.

  Putting her at arm’s length, he stared down on her flushed face and breathed out.

  “Sorry. Sorry. Serving me a good meal doesn’t give me license to manhandle the cook. I got carried away with my thanks. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  With that, he left the kitchen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SIGHT AND SOUND came back to Jenna slowly. She touched her lips—yes, she had been kissed. Well kissed. So well the kitchen had receded and along with it anything previously on her mind.

  Flynn’s kiss had taken her by surprise. More surprising—she wished he hadn’t said he was sorry.

  With her senses returning, she heard his measured tread as he climbed the stairs. She flipped the light switch and plunged the kitchen into darkness.

  A night-light she kept on in the bathroom for Andee allowed her to cross the living room without stumbling even though her knees weren’t entirely steady.

  Out of habit she peeked into Andee’s room. In the trickle of light from the bathroom, she could see her curled around Cubby Bear. Beezer lay angled across the foot of the bed, softly snoring.

  Going into her room, Jenna began to prepare for bed. Over and over she wondered when she’d last been so knocked off kilter by a kiss. Her kisses with Andrew had grown more perfunctory and less frequent in the past few years. Why was that? Had it been her fault?

  The many long separations had taken a toll on their marriage. Their love life, too, had suffered, about the time she began to notice significant changes in Andrew. He’d become sullen and guarded. And he retreated if she brought it up.

  Jenna partially closed her door that led into the bathroom and turned on the soft, rosy glow of her bedside lamp. She crawled under the covers, but stayed sitting upright.

  Even though they’d been having problems, it seemed unbearably cruel for a man who’d served his country in remote, dangerous locales to die in a training mission mere miles from home.

  Should she have stayed to fight for his reputation? What could she have done? Andrew’s crash had been an accident...hadn’t it?

  She refused to follow that train of thought.

  Jenna turned off the light and lay down. What if she’d been remiss in not insisting he see the base psychologist? If he’d been suicidal, would that have come to light? Could it have been prevented, even?

  Why had all these questions come up after she admitted to herself she’d liked Flynn’s kiss?

  Perhaps because he’d acted guilty.

  She was the one who should feel guilt, but heaven help her, she didn’t.

  * * *

  JENNA WOKE SECONDS before her alarm went off. Rather than hit Snooze, she turned it off and tiptoed in to close the door between the bathroom and Andee’s room. She smiled, because now her daughter slept with one arm around her bear and the other around Flynn’s big, clunky dog.

  A quick shower jump-started her enthusiasm for the day. She secured her hair in twin braids, put on her jeans, sneakers and an old T-shirt in anticipation of her final day of egg gathering before taking them to market. Rick Cline, the wholesaler middleman, said he was anxious to receive her first shipment.

  So much had happened during her first two weeks as a bona fide ostrich rancher that it seemed she’d been here forever. But today represented the first income she’d earn. A milestone.

  In the kitchen she hummed as she set coffee to brew. She toasted an English muffin and ate it while waiting for the coffee to emit its last gurgle. Pouring a thermal mug full, she went out into the fresh morning air.

  She loved this time of day when the first rays of sun streaked the eastern sky the colors of sherbet.

  Clipping her iPod to her belt, she affixed her earbuds and went into the pen with the most birds to search for eggs in the holes in the ground the male ostriches dug for the females.

  By the time the sun rose full in a Wedgwood-blue sky, she had all the eggs collected. Hoping the sound of the Cherokee’s engine firing wouldn’t wake anybody, she backed her SUV up to the egg shed as quietly as she could and opened the back to start loading eggs.

  The contrast between the morning warmth and the refrigerated shed made her shiver. She propped the door open and began transferring crates to the Cherokee. They weren’t light. Each only held a dozen eggs, but one ostrich egg was the equivalent weight of two dozen chicken eggs. And each egg was cradled in a thick corrugated cardboard pocket. The wholesaler she’d called had said pastry bakers loved ostrich eggs because they whipped up fluffier than chicken eggs.

  She still worried that egg and feather sales alone wouldn’t provide the income she and Andee needed. While researching ostrich farms, she’d run across two that didn’t sell birds for meat or leather. One also raised alpacas. Apparently they were easy-to-raise, gentle animals and their fleece sold well. It was something she wanted to look into, because the second farmer sold stained-glass art on the side to supplement the ostrich earnings. Jenna couldn’t do that.

  During her fifth trip from the shed, she saw Flynn and Beezer come out of the house. She waited a minute, expecting Andee to emerge. When she didn’t and Flynn went back inside, she figured Andee was still eating breakfast. Flynn must have forgotten something, because he didn’t remain in the house long.

  Jenna carried out two more crates, then saw he’d climbed into his pickup. Beezer occupied the se
cond row of seats in the king cab. At first the dog dashed from side to side and then obviously Flynn said something because Beezer sat.

  Flynn drove off without looking in her direction or tossing her a wave.

  That hurt, but was in keeping with his apology for kissing her. Jenna hoped his vow to not let it happen again didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. However, the possibility of that not being the case hastened her decision to sell her wedding rings if a pawnbroker would take them.

  She had two more trips to make. By then Barney should be rolling in. He could feed the birds and reseed the pen he’d cleared yesterday. She only needed to grab her rings, get Andee and head for the market. What a beautiful morning.

  Once the last crate was loaded, she carefully closed the back of the SUV. Dusting off her gloves, she locked the shed. While still in the vicinity of the incubators, she stopped to make her customary morning check. Much to Jenna’s delight, for the first time, four of the many incubated eggs had hatched out and one was in the process. The gangly little ostriches were so cute.

  This was the most exciting thing to have happened on the farm yet. Jenna wanted Andee to see a baby chick break out of its shell. She set her gloves on the workbench and hurried to the house, stuck her head in the kitchen door and called. Getting no response, she went in.

  The table had been cleared and cereal bowls set in the sink. Andee was probably playing in her room as she often did in the morning. She’d probably skipped coming out, especially if she was pouting because Beezer couldn’t stay.

  Jenna went straight to her daughter’s room.

  It was empty. So was the bathroom. The house was so silent, Jenna’s stomach began to cramp and her heart started to pound. She shouted up the stairs, then ran up, even knowing Andee wouldn’t venture up to Flynn’s area when she’d been told it was off-limits.

  His bed was made and the upstairs was empty.

  Taking the steps two at a time, she ran back downstairs. Detouring past Andee’s room again, she saw that while the bed was unmade, clothes she’d set out on the toy box for Andee to wear today were gone. Her nightgown lay rumpled on the floor. Not unusual. And Cubby wasn’t on the bed with her other stuffed animals. Also not unusual.

  Jenna’s palms began to sweat.

  Possibly, Andee had gone looking for her. Jenna might have missed her, what with trekking in and out of the egg shed. Andee knew Barney had moved birds to the next larger pen, where grass was lush. It was the pen farthest from the house.

  Outside again, Jenna cupped her hands and shouted for Andee. She ran full tilt along the path flanking the pens. Not seeing the girl anywhere, her panic soared. Anxiously she peered inside the unlocked sheds, all the while shouting Andee’s name.

  Racing back along the path, she glanced toward the empty highway a short distance away. Andee had promised she’d never, ever go up to the road. Why would she?

  So what was left? The empty field between the ranch and the foothills separating them from Flynn’s airpark. Jenna recalled hearing the drone of a plane earlier, but it hadn’t flown over the ranch.

  Almost back to the house, she saw Barney turn down the lane on his motorcycle. She ran to meet him, blubbering, “I’m beside myself, Barney. Andee’s missing.”

  “Have you called the sheriff?” he asked, climbing off his bike.

  “No, no. Oh, she has to be here somewhere. Andee really is responsible for her age. She was still asleep when I went out to work. She knew we were going to take the eggs to market and was looking forward to that.”

  “Where’s the dog? They’re like a matched set.”

  “I know. But yesterday Flynn told her he planned to take Beezer. They left a little while ago.”

  “You checked the ostrich pens and the incubator area? I think a couple of eggs were about to crack. Kids are drawn to stuff like that.”

  “I saw them and ran to the house to get Andee. That’s when I realized she wasn’t here! Oh, wait. She mentioned the wildflowers in the field yesterday. I remember she said I should pick some for the table. I’ll bet that’s it. Barney, if you’ll deliver the eggs to Cline’s Wholesale, and give me the key to your bike, I’ll check the field.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he replied. “Meanwhile, I’m also going to call the sheriff. Can’t be too careful.”

  “If she’s not in the field, I’ll call Flynn to see if she said anything to him at breakfast. Both of their cereal bowls are in the sink, so she must’ve eaten with him.” Jenna felt herself babbling from fear.

  “Can you ride a motorcycle?” Barney asked, accepting the SUV key.

  “Yes. We lived in Italy and that’s how you got around.” Jenna didn’t say it’d been a good fifteen years earlier.

  Nodding, the older man started his bike and gave her the spare helmet clipped to one of his saddlebags.

  She quickly put it on and straddled the machine, then took a few seconds to familiarize herself with it. Anxious to leave, she roared off, only fishtailing slightly, and she didn’t look back to see if Barney was having fits.

  In truth she’d only ridden a Harley once before. The bikes they had in Europe weren’t this big. And she hadn’t gone off-roading like this.

  She spotted clumps of yellow wildflowers blooming in profusion in several places. Shouting over the racket of the motorcycle, Jenna reached the first cluster of blooms. Nothing moved. Her pulse throbbed in her ears even as her heart sank.

  Loosening the helmet, she punched up Flynn’s cell. His phone rang, then went to voice mail. Ever more frantic, she left a message and pocketed her phone. Was this pointless? Perhaps, but she tightened the helmet strap and rode on to the next patch of yellow, ignoring sweat trickling down her back.

  If Andee had walked this far, she would’ve gotten hot. Jenna prayed her daughter would’ve sought the shade of the thicket. By this time her morning coffee had turned to acid in her stomach as she bounced over the rocky terrain.

  Hoarse from calling, Jenna revved the bike and swerved toward the foothills to check the last patch of flowers.

  Nothing.

  The silence left her shaking.

  She had no choice but to return to the ranch. Hopefully, the sheriff or a deputy would be there to assist her. She couldn’t make herself think that Andee may have been abducted. Oscar Martin had said that sometimes people on the highway stopped to see the ostriches. No one had since she’d taken over. And she’d been in and out of the egg shed and hadn’t heard a vehicle except for moving her own, and when Flynn drove out.

  She set a beeline course across the empty field. As she got nearer to the house and didn’t see any sign of a patrol vehicle, her hopes plummeted.

  But Flynn’s pickup turned off the highway. As he came closer, she saw Beezer’s bobbing head. And right next to him, Andee.

  Jenna’s heart threatened to explode out of her chest. Yes, her missing daughter’s sweet face was pressed against Beezer’s ear. As she fought to keep from fainting, Jenna shut down the bike, leaped off it and ripped off the hot helmet. Her legs were so weak she let the bike fall sideways instead of deploying the kickstand. It was all she could do to breathe.

  Plunging toward the pickup, her sweat-drenched braids slapped her neck. In a fog, she watched Flynn slam on his brakes to avoid hitting her and the prone Harley.

  He vaulted from the cab. “What in all that’s holy are you doing? Are you nuts? What if I hadn’t been able to stop in time to avoid hitting you?”

  “How dare you take Andee off the ranch without telling me? How dare you take her anywhere without my permission? Have you any idea how frantic I’ve been?”

  Clasping her stomach, she bent over as she hauled in great, shuddering breaths. And for a minute she was afraid she’d lose the meager contents in her stomach.

  “I didn’t take her anywhere.” Circling around the
front of his pickup, he yanked open the back door and leaned in to unbuckle the now-crying child.

  Beezer bounded out first. With his tail wagging like a flag, he ran up to Jenna, barking.

  Her knees did give out then. She sank to the ground, choked by tears of relief, and suffered Beezer’s rough tongue on her face. Through a sheen of sweat and tears, she watched Flynn carry Andee and Cubby Bear to within a footprint away.

  He dropped to one knee. “You’ve got to believe me, I don’t understand any of this. I swear until I got to the airpark and got out by the hangar and Beezer started jumping at the bed, barking his head off, I had no idea she’d stowed away.”

  Jenna leveled a teary stare at her child. “Then how? What? How? Why?” Words failed her.

  The girl twisted a strand of her flyaway hair. “Beezer took me.”

  Jenna scrambled to her feet. “Don’t make things worse by lying. Beezer did no such thing.”

  Andee’s face puckered and giant tears tracked down her cheeks. “I wanted to go up high above the clouds where planes fly. I thought I could see Daddy in heaven.” She sobbed louder and buried her face in Flynn’s neck.

  The air escaped Jenna’s lungs. Again fighting her own tears, she covered her trembling lips with shaky fingers.

  Flynn sat on the rocky ground, flattened his hand across Andee’s back, patting gently. “Airplanes can’t fly as high as heaven. Only angels do that.”

  “But...my Sunday school teacher said heaven was above the clouds, and you fly way high, Flynn.”

  “We humans can only imagine heaven,” he said softly. “My best friend’s gone to heaven, too. Chip. I talk to him sometimes. I can’t see him, but I believe he hears me.”

  “I don’t think Daddy hears me, ’cause he doesn’t say anything back.”

  Flynn shot Jenna a helpless look.

  She cleared her throat. “Sweetie, he hears you. Heaven’s not a place any of us can see. I understand now why you ran off. You miss him. But I was so scared when I couldn’t find you. Promise me you won’t ever go off again without telling me.”