An Unlikely Rancher

by Roz Denny Fox

  “We’re at your lane,” Flynn said, breaking into her reverie. “You’ll want to make sure Andee’s arm doesn’t move on this rough section.”

  Jenna gathered the sleeping girl close. “Funny how the ruts and dips in the lane and along the paths by the pens feel worse now.”

  “I can give Barney a hand filling them in tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, but I’m sure you have your own work to see to.”

  “Speaking of work... Dayton Hines, a local commercial Realtor, brought the owners of the historic-plane show to the airpark this afternoon.” He shot her a glance.

  “Dayton is Travis Hines’s dad. He’s the kid who buzzed your pens.”

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “Anyway, Dayton suggested to the mayor and city council that they sponsor an air show. He’s up-front about his motive. He wants to keep the homeless vets out of the park to make the town more conducive to investors.”

  “What kind of person doesn’t want to house the homeless for their sake?”

  “Apparently a commercial Realtor.” Reaching the house, Flynn parked behind his pickup. “I hear Beezer barking. That’ll wake Andee.” He hooked an arm over the seat back as he turned. “Shall I go in and try to quiet him?”

  “No need. She’s zonked.” Jenna unfastened their seat belts.

  “Shall I carry her?” Flynn got out and came around to open Jenna’s door.

  “Thanks so much.”

  Flynn helped her out before he leaned in and carefully collected the girl. “I dropped Cubby. Will you get him?”

  She complied then locked the SUV. With no lights on in the house, they were engulfed in darkness. Not realizing Flynn had waited, Jenna bumped into him.

  He reached back with one hand and tucked her into his side.

  She shivered in the curve of his arm. But not from cold.

  Flynn held her steady. “Our eyes will adjust in a minute.”

  Jenna looked for the moon, which on previous nights had shone brightly. Tonight a crescent of gold stood out in the distant starlight. “Oh, look. There’s Orion overhead. Don’t you love how clear the skies are here?”

  “You should see the constellations from thirty-five-thousand feet. When I fly at night I envy the astronauts.”

  “I’m afraid to fly.”

  Flynn had been guiding Jenna up the porch steps, but at her comment stopped dead. “Since your husband’s accident?”

  “No, since I was a kid. My dad’s plane crash-landed in Italy. It was in a remote spot and we didn’t know if he was alive for almost a week. I shouldn’t have married a pilot. Andrew thought my fears were foolish, but look what happened.”

  She took out the house key and unlocked the door.

  Before Flynn responded, Beezer bounded out, leaping and barking. He woke Andee up even before Jenna switched on the outside lights.

  Sleepy-eyed, Andee raised her cast above Flynn’s head. “No, Beezer. You’ll hurt my broken arm.”

  Flynn settled the dog with a couple of words. “He’s happy to see us. And he’s probably hungry. We took off so fast I didn’t think to feed him.”

  “Sorry, Beezer.” Andee yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t eat, either.”

  “None of us did. I’ll fix something and give your mom a break.”

  Andee eyed him solemnly. “Mommy, can daddies cook?”

  “Do you mean can men cook? Some of the world’s most famous cooks are men. I’m sure some of them are dads,” Jenna said, reaching for her, balancing the girl on her hip. “I’m taking you in to change into your nightgown. That way you can eat and head straight to bed.”

  “My arm hurts. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

  The doctor had said Andee wouldn’t be in pain with the lidocaine and to use an over-the-counter children’s analgesic if she felt uncomfortable the next day. Jenna guessed she was being played.

  “Okay, for tonight.”

  Beezer seemed torn about whether to follow them out of the kitchen or to stay with Flynn.

  Leaning down, Flynn rubbed the dog’s sides. “Let’s check your food and water bowls, boy.” He strode into the laundry room. The dog wiggled all over as Flynn poured out kibble and fresh water.

  Returning to the kitchen, Flynn washed up and listened to the murmur of feminine voices drifting from the back of the house. The indistinct sounds mingled with Beezer crunching kibble.

  A sense of peace settled over Flynn of the type he hadn’t felt in a long time. He considered that as he moved clutter off the table and set out plates and silverware.

  Jenna and Andee reminded him there could be good things in his life. Things he’d rejected after his engagement had disintegrated.

  If he was honest, his relationship with Saundra had been fun, like a Tilt-A-Whirl. Not peaceful at all.

  He moved Jenna’s mail to the counter and made a mental note to jog her memory about the package for Andee. She’d said it was a gift from her sister.

  He moved on to assemble what he needed for the meal.

  Would her sister like him? He had no doubt his family would love Jenna and Andee without reservation. His mom might overwhelm them. She was a born hugger. Picturing the lot of them at a Sutton family gathering had him whistling while he beat the eggs.

  “Are you making French fries?” Andee asked from behind him.

  Flynn turned, spatula in hand, to find Jenna holding her daughter and looking over his shoulder. “Nope. Toast, bacon and scrambled eggs. Does that sound good?”

  “Uh-huh. With ketchup, please.”

  “A girl after my own heart.” He chuckled.

  Jenna seemed to sag under the weight of the six-year-old.

  “Why don’t you two sit? Ah, there, the toast popped. Jenna, can you butter?”

  “Gladly.”

  He put the toast on a plate and set it on the table.

  She pulled a chair out for Andee.

  Beezer loped out of the laundry room licking his chops. He nuzzled Andee’s bare toes and she giggled.

  Sitting, Jenna buttered the toast, then poured Andee’s milk. “You may need help drinking from this fat glass.”

  “Why did the doctor wrap frog stuff around my thumb?”

  When Jenna, busy opening the ketchup, didn’t answer right away, Flynn brought their eggs and bacon to the table and said, “Until your broken arm heals, it might hurt if you wiggle your fingers too much.”

  “What if my bones don’t get well?” The child dipped her fork into the food he’d dished up, but waited to take a bite after her mom squirted ketchup onto her eggs.

  “They will heal.” Flynn and Jenna spoke with a single voice. Their eyes met, and he suddenly wanted her. It felt like a hefty kick to his gut.

  Andee reached for her milk. Hurriedly dropping Flynn’s eye contact, Jenna helped steady the glass. When she slopped milk out, Flynn decided she’d felt the gut punch, too.

  “I don’t like being a baby again.” Andee shoved Jenna’s hand away. “I don’t like a broken arm. How can I get dressed or tie my shoes?”

  “I’ll help you. Hey, speaking of shoes...” Jenna set down the glass. “Flynn, where is the shoebox you said came in the mail?”

  Getting up, he brought it to the table. “I have a pocketknife if you need help cutting through the tape.”

  “It’s a box of shoes?” Andee asked around a mouthful of egg.

  “Maybe. You’ll see. Do you remember me telling you Auntie Melody sent you a present? Finish eating and then you can open it.”

  The girl tucked into her remaining food.

  The adults polished theirs off, too.

  Andee finished first and wiped her mouth on the back of her uninjured hand instead of using a napkin. “Why would Auntie Melody send me shoes? M
aybe it’s a new doll. I want Flynn to open it.” She pushed the package toward him, slid off her chair and held up her arms so he’d lift her onto his lap.

  He sought Jenna’s approval.

  “Go ahead. My sister uses more tape on gifts than anyone I know. My dad used to say if he was smart he’d buy stock in a major tape company.”

  Flynn laughed as he dug out his pocketknife. He boosted Andee into his lap.

  “Hurry,” she urged.

  “This strapping tape is tough. You need to sit still as a mouse. The last thing we need is for the knife to slip and cut one of us. That goes for you, too, Beezer,” Flynn added when the dog nosed in. At last he sawed through. “You open the rest,” he said, closing and pocketing his knife. He steadied the box so Andee could more easily rip off the wrapping.

  Jenna stacked their dirty dishes to give them more room. They leaned in to watch the child pry off the lid.

  “Oh, boots.” Whooping, Andee took one out of the box. “Flynn, Mommy, look! They’re pink like my bike. I should’ve choosed the flowers for my arm.”

  “I don’t know. The frogs are cool,” Flynn told her. “They go fine with pink.”

  “If you say they do, okay,” Andee said around a giant yawn. “Can I wear my boots to bed?”

  “Why not? And let’s get you off there right now.” Standing, Jenna held out her arms.

  Andee burrowed against Flynn’s wide chest. “I want Flynn to carry me.”

  Letting her arms drop, Jenna spent a moment wondering if she’d left underwear lying on her bed. Too late to do anything about it. Flynn had stood and Andee’s eyelids were already at half mast.

  She scooped up Cubby and led the way.

  After snapping on the bedside lamp, she was relieved to see everything in order.

  “She’s out,” Flynn murmured. “If you turn back the covers, I’ll lay her down.”

  Jenna did and tucked the boots and Cubby under Andee’s good arm.

  “Well,” he said, “I’d better get back to the kitchen and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Considering your eventful day, you’ll probably want to turn in.”

  “Actually, I’m thinking about making a cup of chamomile tea.” She turned the lamp to low. “You cooked, so I should do the dishes.” She slipped past him and out the door. “Didn’t you say something about telling me how your day went?”

  “It wasn’t anything important. I’m excited about the historic planes. We’re going to offer tours. And flights in a B-17 Flying Fortress, as well as the B-24 Liberator. For a hefty fee there will be half-hour flight instruction in a P-51 Mustang fighter. You may not even want to take the tour.”

  “I don’t.” Having put a kettle of water on to heat, she helped him rinse and stow their dinner items in the dishwasher. “But Andee will want to see the planes. Are you sure the noise from all of those flights won’t stampede my birds?”

  He folded the paper that had been around Andee’s gift and stuffed it into the boot box, which he put in the trash bin. “I won’t lie. World War II planes aren’t quiet. They recommend in the brochure that people taking excursions bring earplugs.”

  Beezer wandered out of the laundry room, where he’d been lapping up water, and through the kitchen.

  “Mmm-hmm. Would you like tea?” she asked Flynn distractedly as the kettle whistled. Noisy planes. What about her birds?

  “Sure.” He took a second cup from a cupboard and passed it to Jenna. Watching her pour boiling water over tea bags, he leaned his hip against the counter and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I thought you’d throw a fit at the prospect of the noise.”

  Giving a rueful smile, she handed him a cup. “I’d be more apt to if the money wasn’t going to a good cause. I hate the notion of anyone sleeping out in the park. Everybody deserves a bed and a roof over their head.” She sat at the table and blew on her hot tea. “I know some might choose the streets, but many would rather have normalcy.”

  Flynn pulled out the chair across from her and sat. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Dayton Hines asked if I knew of any structures the city could buy now to get the four veterans currently living in the park out before Pancho Villa Days.”

  She didn’t say anything, so he continued slowly, “I started thinking...your rental has three bedrooms, plus a den that could be a fourth bedroom. As worried as you are about finding the money to upgrade the AC, it crossed my mind it may be a relief to sell it to the city on the condition they replace the unit. Unless your heart’s set on being a slumlord. Just kidding,” he tossed out quickly with a laugh.

  Sitting up straighter, Jenna gripped her cup. “Then where would you go?”

  He cleared his throat. It took him a minute to speak.

  “I thought I could stay here.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “IS THAT A no or a yes?” Flynn asked after rushing around the table to pat Jenna on the back as she choked on her hot tea.

  She needed to breathe. “I...swallowed the tea too fast.”

  Flynn was a pilot. He could collide with another flyer in the sky—and...die. “I need time to think this over.”

  “Yes.” Flynn took his seat again and picked up his cup. “Knowing the day you’ve had, I should’ve laid it on you with a little more finesse. I assumed you’d want to help the vets.”

  “The idea is worth considering. I counted the rental income as gravy. That didn’t pan out.”

  “Your income wouldn’t change with me paying the same to rent here.”

  Jenna studied him pensively. “Let me sleep on it,” she said, standing and putting her cup in the dishwasher.

  He pushed to his feet and did the same.

  Their arms bumped. It felt like an electric shot. She hurriedly started the dishwasher and eased away.

  “What’s wrong, Jenna?” He caught her arm, turning her to face him. “Just say no and we’ll forget I brought it up. The last thing I want is to cause you more headaches.”

  She took a long, careful breath. “You’re right. I’ve had an eventful day.”

  “Don’t lose sleep worrying about it, okay? You go on to bed. I’ll set up coffee for morning and make sure everything is locked up before I shut out the lights and turn in.”

  “Thanks, I’m going.” And she fled.

  Reaching for the coffee filters, Flynn stared after her and wondered if she had other problems bottled up.

  He truly regretted his part in their thorny start. It was just that sticking to a commitment was such a huge deal in his life. He’d committed to the service...and look where that had gotten him: grounded and barely scraping by. He’d committed to Saundra...and enough said about that.

  So many things about Jenna were opening his eyes.

  Yes, she’d committed to taking over his lease and making good on his living conditions. No, she hadn’t been able to follow through on that promise. Was Jenna really any different from Saundra?

  Damn. When had he become so rigid and uncompromising? Was it the military training?

  He didn’t know.

  But maybe sometimes the road paved with good intentions didn’t have to lead to hell.

  He set about doing all of the other chores he’d promised Jenna he’d take care of. Then he retired for the night.

  * * *

  WHEN FLYNN GOT up the next morning, he used Jenna’s gift and took his blood pressure. It registered normal, making his spirits soar. Feeling like kicking up his heels, he dressed and hurried downstairs, surprised to discover he was the first one up.

  But if anything spoke about Jenna’s previously rough day, her sleeping late was it. He started the coffee, hoping the smell would entice her out of bed. His pouring cereal attracted Beezer. The dog beelined straight to the laundry room, but promptly came out to gaze accusingly at Flynn.

 
“Ha, you traitor. Leave me all night then expect me to feed you? Okay, come on.” He filled the dog’s bowl with kibble and went back to eat his Froot Loops. Since there was still no sign of Jenna or Andee by the time he finished, Flynn took his coffee outside to savor the fresh air and sunshine.

  Beezer tagged along and went sniffing in the bushes.

  Flynn set out toward the pens to get an idea how many holes needed to be filled. Luckily she didn’t need to buy gravel. She owned several acres of sandy soil.

  He parked his mug on a shed window ledge so he could see if there was a wheelbarrow inside. Before he got the door open, an airplane crested the foothills flying so low he could count the rivets outlining the aircraft’s wheel well.

  Hearing a commotion coming from normally quiet ostriches, Flynn crossed to the pens and saw birds in chaos. It was exactly how Jenna had described it when she’d levied her first complaint at the airpark.

  He hadn’t wanted to believe Travis Hines would deliberately and repeatedly buzz this ranch. Flynn knew his plane. This time the kid had meant to strafe the pens. He’d banked and roared over them, flying lower. Dangerously so.

  For all the good it did, Flynn shook his fist at the now-departing Piper Cub. The dog pawed at his good leg and whined. “Sorry, boy, but he’s a knucklehead.”

  Glad Jenna hadn’t been up to see the plane today, Flynn idly rubbed the dog’s silky ears and tried to think of the best way to deal with Travis. Obviously talking to him hadn’t worked. Maybe he’d speak to Dayton about his son.

  Steeped in thought, Flynn went back to retrieve his coffee and saw Barney rolling in early. The older man parked his Harley and strode out to greet Flynn.

  “Hey, who slashed your pickup tires and cut up your canopy?”

  “What?”

  Flynn led the way to where he’d parked the previous afternoon—before Andee’s accident and their subsequent trip to the hospital in Jenna’s SUV. His head spun when he got a look at the damage. If it had happened before they’d arrived home, it’d been too dark to see. And this morning he hadn’t paid attention. Now he circled his pickup again.