Moving upstream from them, he filled his coffeepot and built a fire to get the water boiling even as he tried not to think longingly of how easy it was at home to walk into the ranch kitchen and pour himself a cup of the coffee the cook always kept freshly made—along with warm cinnamon rolls, the source of several of the extra pounds that now circled his middle.
There had been a time when he would have crouched down beside the fire to have his coffee as he contemplated the day ahead. Those days were long gone, though. His knees couldn’t take that kind of punishment.
He opened up his lightweight folding chair, wrapped a blanket around himself and sat down to wait for his hot brew to be ready.
Slipping Henry Stackhouse’s old maps and charts from their waterproof case, he chose the one that showed the canyon where he was camped and studied it yet again, his mind mulling over every possible route, every obstacle he might encounter on the way to where he wanted to go.
He knew he would have a long, tough day ahead, but he was convinced he was on the right trail. At least it was the right place to make a good start. He wondered fleetingly how many times Henry had thought the same thing.
The difference between him and his late friend was that he wouldn’t make this search his life’s quest. He would be smart about it, do his best and go home when he was ready. The difference between him and Henry was that he wouldn’t let it consume his mind, take over his life.
Henry had always been a loner. He’d never married and didn’t have much family to speak of. He’d been an expert electrician and handyman, able to earn enough money to finance his gold-hunting trips, which had taken him all over the West until he’d settled on his search for the Lost Teamsters Mine about ten years ago. That was when his obsession had really begun.
Gus planned to stay interested in the quest but to avoid obsession.
Still, he liked to imagine returning to Eaglecrest with the gold so many had looked for and no one else had found.
Gus laughed at himself. Nothing in his harsh upbringing or in his lifetime of back-breaking labor had been a preparation for the kinds of fanciful thoughts he was having now. Visions of the old treasure filled his mind.
Maybe Zannah was right. Maybe he did have gold fever.
Unbidden, Sharlene’s words came back to him, telling him he already had a treasure in his ranch, his family. In her.
Uncomfortable at the memory, he stood and checked on his coffee, then poured himself a cup and sat back down to wait for the boiling brew to be cool enough to drink.
He tried to distract himself with memories of long-ago camping trips when he and Esther and their children had enjoyed fishing, cooking out, spending nights around the campfire where Esther would tell and retell all the family stories that the kids treasured. His family had no such stories, but he’d come to feel a part of her family.
And just like that, his thoughts circled back to Sharlene.
In all the years he’d known her, she had been a faithful friend to Esther, and to him. She had been steady, reliable, never a surprise, never a source of dishonesty or, worse, drama, as some other employees had been. Everything he’d asked of her she’d done, often with discussions and suggestions that made his idea even better, more workable.
She’d been a real partner, someone who hadn’t been afraid to tell him what she thought, rein him in when necessary, even spark his annoyance.
Gus raised his cup but paused with the coffee halfway to his lips as the thought struck him that, exactly as Esther had, what Sharlene had shown him all these years was what love was supposed to look like.
* * *
“SO, WHAT DO you think now?” Zannah asked.
Brady lifted the ice pack from his face and said, “I think, given time, I might recover the sight in my left eye.”
“I was asking Sharlene.”
Brady grunted and replaced the only thing that was giving him any comfort. He wished he knew which was worse, the pain or the humiliation.
“We’ll know more when the swelling goes down,” Sharlene said, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “But I still think you should have gone to urgent care.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Are you trying to be a tough guy, Brady?” Zannah asked, not for the first time. “’Cause even the fiercest, most competitive bull riders I’ve ever seen would know to go to the doctor after a spill like you had.” She paused. “But most of the bull riders I’ve seen manage to land on their butts or their feet, not their faces.”
If Brady could see her, he knew she would probably be biting her lip, trying not to laugh.
“You’re going to have a really big shiner tomorrow,” Emma said. She reached out to pat his hand where it lay on the cover.
The two little girls had followed the women into his cabin and were offering him sympathy. They were apparently enthralled by his injuries.
“I never saw anyone fall that hard on his face,” her sister added. “I’m glad you didn’t squash your nose.”
“That makes two of us.” Brady didn’t think there were enough painkillers on the ranch to make him feel better. And the only way to make him feel less stupid was to stay hidden for the next few years.
He was lying across his bed, feet propped up, ice pack on his face, family gathered around. Sharlene and the little girls were observing him with suitable compassion.
Before he’d closed his eyes in self-defense, he’d seen that Zannah looked like she wanted to collapse into laughter. Another reason he was grateful for the ice pack. He wouldn’t have to look at her growing amusement at his expense.
“Are you gonna do this again tomorrow night?” Joelle asked. “The second group didn’t get to see what happened. They were working. Did you know you were actually flying through the air for a minute there? It was awesome.”
“So glad you enjoyed it,” he mumbled, peeking out with his one good eye.
Emma piped up. “It was even better than the time Breckin Dailey told Keegan Vasquez that she could fly and she would tell him the magic word and he could fly off the top of the jungle gym.”
“What happened?” Zannah asked.
Joelle took up the story. “He fell on his face, but he mostly landed on the rubber mats underneath so he wasn’t hurt too bad, but he did kinda squash his nose. It got okay later, though. You look a lot worse than he did, Brady.”
Brady held up one scraped-up hand and tried to form a victory fist to pump the air as he said, “Yay me.”
He couldn’t see his hand, but he thought it probably looked more like a claw.
If it was possible, he would feel sorry for himself, but he suspected he’d broken his self-pity bone tonight.
Sharlene stood up, snapped the first aid kit shut and handed it to Zannah. “I think you might as well keep this in here. He seems to need it more than anyone else.”
He heard Zannah snicker. “The good news is that when I took his boots and socks off, I could see that all his blisters have healed.”
“I’m right here, you know,” he complained.
“Come on, girls,” Sharlene said, shooing them toward the door. “Let’s leave Brady alone to recover.”
“Okay,” Emma said. “We need to call Mom and Dad anyway and tell them what happened. They’re totally not gonna believe this. Can we use your phone, Aunt Zee?”
“Yes.” She handed it over.
“’Course, if they’d let us have our own phones, we wouldn’t need to use yours,” Joelle said.
“I’ll be sure to tell them that,” Zannah answered.
“Do you think Grandpa will call?” Joelle added. “I can’t wait to tell him.”
“Maybe,” Sharlene answered. “But he might be too busy treasure hunting.”
They went out and shut the door, leaving Brady alone with the person who seemed to be enjoying this the most.
Af
ter several seconds of silence, he lifted the ice pack again to look at her as he said, “So how long before you say ‘I told you so’?”
She made a big show of looking at her watch. “I think I’m there right now. I told you so.”
“It wasn’t all bad.”
“No, it wasn’t. Everyone liked the trust fall, especially Juan and the waitstaff. They ended up rolling in the hay and having a hay fight.”
“Yeah, that looked fun.”
Zannah pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down. “The obstacle course was good. Trusting them to lead each other, blindfolded, around cups of water set out on the barn floor was a good activity.”
“And enough water got spilled that that the floor actually got an unexpected mopping.”
“But—”
Brady replaced the ice pack. He knew he’d need it to get through the next part of the discussion. “Okay, I admit that that last activity I dreamed up probably went too far.”
“Had you ever actually seen that done before?”
“Well, no.”
“A race to see which team could inoculate the most calves, the fastest? Something you’d never, ever done before?”
“I may have overestimated my abilities.”
“Thank goodness Chet and Juan were there to pull you out of the way when that mama cow took exception to you messing with her baby.”
“I thought the gate was latched.”
“It was, until she hit it at a run and headed straight for you. I’m glad she only knocked you down and didn’t trample you.”
“Me, too.” Once again, he lifted the ice pack so he could look at her. “I would ask if you think our staff will still respect me, but I don’t think they ever did.”
Zannah went very still. Her gaze met his, then dropped away. “They know you’re trying, Brady.” She stood up quickly and glanced around. She spied his cell phone on the dresser and brought it to him. “If you’ve got everything, I’ll be going. Call me if you need anything.”
“Sure. I will. Thanks, Zannah.”
He watched her go, then lay down again. The heck of it was that he’d been trying to impress her. He should have stuck with trust falls. He knew how to fall.
Speaking of falling, he thought ruefully. In spite of his determination to not get romantically involved with his new business partner, he knew himself well enough to know he was falling for Zannah. It wasn’t simply her looks—those golden-brown eyes and that curly hair combined with her pretty face were reason enough, but her independence, strength and dedication to her family were equally attractive.
The staring-into-each-other’s-eyes activity had solidified things for him.
He was sunk.
He knew how she felt about him, though. She didn’t want him here. He’d been secretly entertaining the fantasy of staying here even after he’d fulfilled the terms of the wager, but he had to put that out of his mind.
* * *
“ZANNAH, I REALIZE my last idea didn’t work out very well, but Juan and I have a new one that I think will be a big attraction.”
“But we’re almost fully booked for the summer, Brady. How will we accommodate more purple—Oh, sorry.” Juan squinted at the script Brady had written out for him. “More people.” He lowered the paper to frown at his boss. “You’ve got terrible handwriting, Brady.”
“You sound like my third-grade teacher.”
The two of them were in the barn discussing last night’s fiasco and trying to come up with a new moneymaking idea.
Brady indicated the lines he’d written, trying to anticipate Zannah’s objections. “What do you think?”
“I think with you looking like a disaster victim, she’s sure to go for this. Do you think you could try looking a little more pitiful?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Brady tried to arrange his battered features into an expression guaranteed to elicit sympathy, even pity.
“Nah.” Juan stepped up to look at him. “Now you look like someone she wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.”
“Well, maybe that will work in my favor. Come on.”
Juan shook his head. “I’ve got to go repair the corral fence, remember? That calf did a pretty good job of taking it down.” He headed out with a wave. “See you later.”
Brady gave the fleeing man a dark look, then stretched gingerly, testing out the parts of him that were bruised the worst. It really wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be. A hot morning shower had gone a long way toward making him feel better, but he was too stiff to pull on his boots. In his old sneakers, he probably wouldn’t go around the horses today.
Also, since his face had taken most of the impact, the rest of him was in pretty good shape. The scrapes had already begun to scab over, and he was a fast healer. A lifetime of adventures with his brothers had taught him that.
He started from the barn, but a soft whinny from Belinda’s stall had him stopping to talk to her. She put her head over the stall door and looked at him.
“Yeah, I know it’s bad, much worse than when you dumped me,” he said, reaching up to rub his hand along her jaw. “I apologize for filling your saddle blanket with burrs. I promise it wasn’t on purpose.”
She whinnied again.
“I’m going to take that as an acceptance of my apology,” Brady said, rubbing both sides of her jaw. “So, you want to be friends?”
When she dipped her nose down and whinnied again, he laughed, thanked her and walked out feeling as if he’d passed a big milestone.
He headed out to find some breakfast, and to locate Zannah. All the while, his mind was clicking over the string of arguments she would have against his new idea.
On his way across the yard, he was stopped by everyone who had seen or heard about last night’s debacle. Most people sympathized. Some flat-out laughed.
He decided not to let it bother him, because he had figured out a long time ago that being the boss meant looking ridiculous sometimes—although maybe not this ridiculous.
Right now, he had the new challenge of convincing a partner who had, so far, liked few of his plans, that this one was spectacular.
He walked into the office, where Zannah was once again seated at the computer.
She got to her feet when she saw who it was.
“Brady, how are you?” She came around the desk and stood looking closely at his face.
“I’ll heal,” he said with a shrug. “I want to talk to you about a new idea that Juan and I have come up with.”
“Already this morning?” she asked in alarm. “Please tell me it’s not something induced by painkillers.”
“Have a little faith, will ya?”
She answered by leveling a steady look at him.
“Okay, I admit that last night’s idea didn’t work out very well, but this one is surefire.”
With the expression of someone who was about to take some really bad medicine, Zannah said, “Okay, let’s hear it.” She sat down, and he sat opposite her.
Her quick agreement surprised him a little, but he didn’t waste any time before plunging in.
“I paid a visit to Fordham’s place—”
“You did? Without telling me?”
“I wasn’t going to ask your permission,” he answered testily, but her hurt look had him contritely mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
When she didn’t respond, he went on, “Fordham invited me, remember?”
“For what purpose?”
Frustrated, Brady shrugged. “I don’t know, trying to be a good neighbor, make me feel welcome? Maybe he recognized another businessman with similar interests, someone who might benefit from his expertise.”
Zannah held up her hand. “I guarantee you he’s not that altruistic.”
“Maybe not, but he knows how to
make a person feel welcome.”
Her gaze darted away from him, but again, she didn’t respond.
He forged ahead. “He’s got activities going on that appeal to a much wider clientele than only their guests. To the locals, as well.”
“I know that. He’s also richer than the Raymond City Bank. In fact, he owns the Raymond City Bank.”
“So he’s got cash flow we don’t have. Anyway, we need to come up with unusual attractions.” He paused and gave a self-deprecating smile. “I mean other than watching a newbie land on his face.”
She smiled. “What do you have in mind?”
“Fordham suggested golf, which the surveyors also mentioned.”
“But that would cost millions.” She shook her head. “There aren’t that many golfers around here. Maybe because there are so few golf courses. If we developed one—” She held up a palm. “And please notice that I’m not objecting to this, only asking questions and bringing up important points.”
“Good. That’s what partners are supposed to do.”
“But we would have to give up hundreds of acres of rangeland to make it feasible. And, like I said, it would cost millions.”
“Which we don’t have,” he agreed. “But golf on horseback would be cheap.”
She stared at him. “Golf on—”
“Horseback. Yeah.”
Brady couldn’t help himself. He grinned and nodded. “Great idea, huh? We’ve got the land. Probably won’t need more than twenty acres.”
He paused, waiting for her response. She only stared at him with a look of dawning alarm. Before she could begin forming objections, he forged ahead.
“So, we’ve got the land. We’ve got the horses. All we need are some stock tanks, and we’ll be in business.”
“Stock tanks?” she asked in a strangled voice.
“Yeah. That’s where the players will make a hole in one.”
“You mean with actual golf balls?”
“Right, and golf clubs.”
Rancher to the Rescue Page 17
