A Refuge for the Rancher (Brush Creek Brides Book 6)

by Liz Isaacson

  “Miss Sharpe,” Ruby said.

  “Do you know her first name?”

  Ruby stared at him with a blank look in her eyes, and Grant chuckled. “I guess not. All right, it looks like your dad is ready to eat.”

  The girls ran toward the patio, and Grant shelved his sleuthing for the evening. He had a computer and the ranch had excellent WiFi. He could figure out the principal’s name without bringing anyone else into it.

  Shannon Sharpe. Shannon Sharpe. Shannon Sharpe.

  She’d certainly looked sharp, if Grant’s memory could be trusted. He’d seen the woman around at town functions, always from a distance. Their circles had never overlapped, and though the website said she’d been principal for six years, he couldn’t remember meeting her once.

  He drove himself to church on Sunday morning, declining Emmett’s usual offer. He hadn’t had to provide an excuse either, something he appreciated about his friendship with the barrel horse trainer. No unnecessary questions. Your business was your business. Even his wife seemed to be that way, and Grant liked Molly a whole lot too.

  But he wanted to be able to linger after church today, see if he could somehow come face-to-face with the blonde who’d confronted him on Friday. He could start with an apology, but he was also hoping to end with something else.

  His heart seemed to twist with the road as he made his way down the canyon. He’d been going back to the elementary school to catch a glimpse of another woman. Another blonde, a second grade teacher there. He knew things between them wouldn’t work out, and yet he’d had the hardest time letting Claire go.

  He wasn’t even sure why. Only that his soul felt called to the elementary school, and so he’d gone a few times.

  A skin of embarrassment encased him as he remembered the spark in Shannon’s eyes when she’d said he really needed to stop hanging around. He wondered how much she knew about him, and if she had a boyfriend, and if she liked cowboys.

  Someone like her certainly didn’t seem like the cowboy-loving type. No, he pictured her with a suit-wearing lawyer, or someone who owned their own ranch. Not someone who simply trained cattle to come out of the chute right and to trot off after they’d been roped and wrestled to the ground.

  Still, Grant held his head high as he entered the church. He made a decent, honest living, and he shouldn’t have to apologize for it. He’d chosen it after his retirement from the rodeo. He’d never topped the leaderboards the way Ted and Landon had. Never won multiple championships the way Justin and Walker had. But he’d made enough to live on, enough to invest, enough to support himself comfortably for a while—and then he’d blown it all.

  He pushed the negative thoughts away, the way he’d learned to do in his therapy sessions, and stalled in the doorway of the chapel, his eyes scanning for those loose, blonde curls. Problem was, Brush Creek seemed to have a disproportionate number of blondes, most of whom Grant had taken out at least once. He seemed to have a new girlfriend every few weeks—at least until Claire.

  When she’d broken up with him last fall, right after school started, Grant hadn’t immediately gotten back on the dating wagon.

  He suspected his thirtieth birthday had something to do with that, but he wasn’t sure what. Just maybe that he now felt too old to be flirting with every female and “just having a good time.”

  He wanted that too. But he also now wanted to settle down. The feeling was as foreign as it was right, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. He did know that Miss Shannon Sharpe was the first woman in almost ten months who’d even remotely interested him, and he wasn’t going to just ignore that.

  Grant didn’t see Shannon, and he wasn’t sure he’d recognize her from the back even if he had. So he slipped down the aisle and sat on the end of a row by himself. Megan usually made sure he had someone to sit by, and Grant secretly believed she liked having Grant on the end of their bench so he could help entertain the kids. He didn’t mind, and maybe Shannon would like that he was good with kids.

  He shifted in his seat, very aware that he’d attended church for the past few years with Megan and Landon’s family, and he’d never seen Shannon once. Why should today be any different? Simply because he’d seen her on Friday afternoon and liked her in-charge attitude? Her dangly earrings? Her soft curls?

  He almost scoffed out loud. He was being so ridiculous. Clearing his throat, he focused on the front of the chapel and listened to the sermon. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, and he kept his attention on the preacher’s words.

  The meeting ended, and Grant didn’t jump to his feet. He lingered the way he wanted to and scanned the people heading out. He didn’t see Shannon and he reasoned that maybe she didn’t go to church. Maybe she was sick today. So many maybes.

  With the chapel almost empty, he finally stood and made his way up the aisle. The sun shone though the open doors, where Pastor Peters stood talking to patrons. Grant glanced down the hall, where a side door waited. He considered escaping that way, but he heard his name in Landon’s voice.

  He turned toward his boss, who was really so much more than that. Grant would do anything for Landon—including driving to Vernal at the drop of a hat to get an anniversary gift for Megan—because Landon had provided a refuge for Grant when he needed it most. He’d paid off Grant’s gambling debts, given him a job, and provided a way for Grant to make amends and then make something of his life.

  Grant was working on it, every day of his life. He almost had Landon paid back, and he loved the work he did on the ranch.

  And here was Landon again, doing what Grant thought to be impossible. He gestured toward Grant, and Shannon glanced his way. Her face brightened, and she smiled. Her cheekbones became more prominent, and her beauty made Grant’s heart tumble over a couple of beats.

  “Grant,” Landon said again. “This is Shannon Sharpe, the principal at Brush Creek Elementary. She’s going to be…well, I’ll let her explain it. I don’t quite get it.”

  Shannon strode forward and extended her hand, her teeth just as white as he remembered. Her makeup was flawless and not a single hair sat out of place. She wore a black pencil skirt with a pink blouse, a silver and black necklace that laid in the perfect places across her collarbone, and a pair of matching earrings.

  “Nice to meet you, Grant,” she said. She cast a quick glance at Landon. “As I was telling Mister Edmunds here, the superintendent of schools wants to do a summer riding program for our underprivileged kids. You know, the ones who qualify for summer school and free and reduced lunch.”

  Grant was having a hard time breathing and listening at the same time. Shannon smelled like floral lotion, and Grant wanted to find out what brand and buy a vat of it.

  “Sure,” he said, though he wasn’t sure about much of anything at the moment.

  “He mentioned Brush Creek Horse Farm, and we both thought it would be the best location for our students.” She looked at Landon again. “You’ll be compensated, and we won’t have more than ten students up at the ranch at a time. We’ll do all the transportation and everything.” She switched her attention back to Grant. “We just need someone to help with the horseback riding lessons.”

  The way she gazed at him with such hope and self-assurance at the same time caused Grant’s confidence to rise too. “I can give horseback riding lessons.” He met Landon’s eye. “Right?”

  Landon studied him for a moment past normal. “How long would the riding lessons be?”

  “We’ll do our regular summer school classes in the morning,” Shannon said. “And we’d like to bring kids up once a week. For them,” she added quickly. “For you, it would be three groups of ten kids each day. From one o’clock to two-thirty. I’ll come everyday, and I’ll make sure I have teachers to supervise the children not doing riding lessons.”

  Everything she said sounded great, especially the bit about her coming up to the ranch every day. Grant deferred to Landon. “What do you think, boss?”

  “Justin’s done ho
rseback riding lessons with kids before,” Landon mused, his hand coming up to stroke his jaw.

  Grant saw his opportunity to see Shannon every day slipping away. He took a quick step toward Landon. “I can do the lessons.”

  Landon met his eye, and Grant hoped he didn’t look too desperate, but he felt it coursing through him with the force of river rapids.

  “Maybe if you have three cowboys who could spare a half an hour, we could have three groups going at once and only have to come up for thirty minutes,” Shannon said.

  Landon blinked like he’d just realized that Shannon still stood there. “That would be great, if we have facilities to do horseback riding lessons for thirty kids at a time. Ten is going to be a challenge.” He glanced around the lobby. “I don’t even know if we have ten horses that can do riding lessons.”

  Grant could barely swallow. “I’m sure we can rustle them up.”

  Landon’s eyebrows drew down, but Grant couldn’t say anything right here, right now. He finally looked away from his boss, sighing and taking a few steps away. Not far enough so he couldn’t hear Landon say, “Look, Miss Sharpe, we’ll need a couple of days to look at our horses, and I’ll need to figure out who I can spare.”

  “Does it have to be horseback riding lessons?” Grant asked, lunging back into the conversation, his mind racing.

  Landon gave him an inquisitive look, but again, Grant felt like he couldn’t say much.

  “I’m just sayin’ that maybe if she’s bringing out thirty kids, that we could all do something with, I don’t know, say five of them. Thirty minutes. They head back down the canyon, and we get back to work.”

  “What kind of something?” Landon asked.

  Grant felt the weight of his boss’s stare and Shannon’s, and both were equally heavy. “I don’t know,” Grant said. “Roping, maybe. Horse care. Heck, they can sweep barns.”

  “Well.” Shannon chuckled as she shouldered her way into the conversation. “We want this to be something fun for the kids. Otherwise, we’ll just send them back to daycare.” Her blue eyes were like sapphires and Grant had to blink and look away before he became mesmerized.

  “I need a few days,” Landon said. “Can I call you if I have more questions?”

  “Of course.” She pulled out her phone and checked it. “Would you like my number?”

  “I can just call—”

  “I’ll take it,” Grant said, interrupting Landon with too much eagerness in his tone. He noticed the way Landon settled his weight away from Grant and nodded. He knew of Grant’s interest, but somehow Grant didn’t care. He wanted Shannon Sharpe’s phone number, and if he had to use his job at the ranch to get it, he’d do it.

  “I’m sure we can work somethin’ out,” Grant said with a grin. “I’ll let you know, all right, Miss Sharpe?”

  She grinned up at Grant with a flirty glint in her eye, spun on her bedazzled heels, and walked out of the church.

  “Oh, boy,” Landon said. “You sweet on her?”

  Grant scoffed. “Sweet, no.” He turned back to his friend. “Interested, yes.”

  Landon chuckled. “Well, the whole town knows that now.”

  “Whatever,” Grant said. “There were like, two people left when she offered her phone number.” His phone felt like a delicious prize, and he flipped it over in his palm, wondering how long he should wait to call Shannon. Probably at least more than five minutes.

  Landon clapped Grant on the shoulder and leaned in close. “She seems like more than even you can handle. Probably should be careful.”

  “Yeah,” Grant said, giddy and trying not to show it.

  “And we’ll have to talk about the program,” he said as he started toward the exit. “Something like that doesn’t just magically happen, you know.”

  “I know,” Grant called after him, grateful once again for Landon Edmunds.

  Chapter Three

  Shannon didn’t hear from Landon—or Grant—on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. By Thursday, she’d bitten all her fingernails down to the point of painful, and she had an appointment with her supervisor that afternoon. She’d hoped to have some news for him, maybe a checklist of items she needed, or some questions from the ranchers up the canyon.

  Instead, she had bupkis. She didn’t have Grant’s number, but she’d managed to find a woefully outdated website for the horse ranch, which included a contact number. She called that, surprised when a woman answered.

  “Oh, hello,” Shannon said. “I’m looking for Landon Edmunds? Or maybe Grant…Something.” She trilled out a laugh that sounded fake and drummed her nailless fingers on her desk.

  “Ford,” the woman said.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “Grant’s last name is Ford. But Landon is standing right here.” The phone switched hands, and Landon said, “Hello?” in a somewhat grumpy tone, if Shannon could read the inflection in his voice.

  “Landon,” she said. “It’s Shannon Sharpe from the school. I have a meeting with my boss today, and I’m just wondering if you’ve had enough time—and have enough information—to make a decision on the summer riding program.”

  He exhaled, which might as well have been a “No, I haven’t given it a second thought.”

  “I—Can I send someone down to talk to you this morning?” he said instead.

  “Sure, of course.”

  “Great, I’ll get Grant down there before lunch.”

  She accepted his offer and hung up. She smoothed her blouse and combed her fingers through her hair, though the man hadn’t even left the ranch yet. She shouldn’t even be thinking about him past a contact on the ranch. Just because he was handsome didn’t mean they were a match.

  But you could be, she thought. And therein sat the real opportunity, the real reason her heart jumped from one side of her chest to the other whenever she thought about Grant filling her office doorway.

  An hour later, he did just that. She glanced away from her computer and nearly gasped. Her face relaxed into a smile and she forgot about next year’s budget, which she was trying to align with the needs of the school and students.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, yourself.” Grant returned her grin and stepped into the office.

  Though it was large, and she had three chairs around a table in front of her desk, he filled all the available space with his charisma and charm. So much so that Shannon leaned forward on her elbows as she said, “Have a seat.”

  He sat and said, “Landon said you needed to see me.”

  She pulled a folder toward her. “Yes, I’m meeting with my supervisor this afternoon, and I need to be able to tell him something.” She shuffled some papers around, looking for the one she needed.

  “Landon says we can’t do ten kids at a time,” Grant said. “So I don’t know if you can make something else work, but we don’t have the horses or manpower for that.”

  She looked up at him, unable to find the list of confirmed summer school students. “I overestimated how many students we’d have enrolled in the program. It will be less than what I said originally.”

  He swiped his dark brown cowboy hat off his head to reveal a headful of delicious black hair. “I’m not sure what you know about Brush Creek Horse Ranch, but we don’t breed horses. We train them into rodeo champions.”

  Shannon blinked, because no, she hadn’t truly known what the horse ranch did. Dr. Vincent had suggested some outdoor activities for the low-income students, and Shannon had blurted out horseback riding lessons.

  “How many horses do you have?”

  “That can do horseback riding lessons?” Grant replaced his hat and peered at her from under its brim. “Probably three or four. And they’re not ranch horses. They’re our own personal horses. Like I could use Gwyneth Paltrow for a lesson, but—”

  Shannon burst into laughter. “Wait a second. Gwyneth Paltrow?”

  Grant’s stare had level ten intensity in it. “She’s my horse.”

  Shannon cocked her he
ad and tried to find the reason behind the name. Amusement sparked in his eyes, and she ended up lifting both hands in acquiescence. “So no horseback riding.” Her delight over his horse’s name faded as the possibility of spending some time with him disappeared on the horizon.

  “I don’t think so.” He looked genuinely sorry, and she could barely stomach the dark, puppy-dog eyes.

  “So I’ll come up with something else.” She sighed and closed the folder, all her questions and checklists useless if she couldn’t even get five kids up to the ranch.

  “How many kids do you have in your program?”

  “Total? Or my low-income group?”

  “Either.”

  “I have about a hundred coming for summer school. Maybe twenty or so of those we’d like to keep for an extended experience in June.”

  “Just June?”

  “Yes, summer school is just in June.”

  Grant looked over her left shoulder, the cogs clearly working in his head. “Even if we split them into five groups, that’s still four kids.” He met her eye. “Maybe I can bring a horse down to them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can bring Gwyneth down here. Give some lessons in horse care. Let the kids ride her. They wouldn’t learn to ride, but I could lead them.”

  “All right. That sounds like one week—tops—of afternoons.”

  “We could take them to the swimming hole out by the strawberry fields,” Grant suggested. “I could ask the bakery if they could do a couple of lessons on making bread or cookies. Something like that. I know the guy who runs the parks department, and maybe he’d take the kids out into the wooded area at Oxbow Park.”

  “We did just want to give the kids some outdoor experiences they might not otherwise be able to do….” Shannon mused. “I’ll talk to my supervisor this afternoon.” She stood, though she wanted the meeting to last a bit longer. “I’ll let you know if we need you and Gwyneth.” She beamed at him and reached across the desk to shake his hand.