“You bet.”
While the coffee brewed, they worked out additional details for the community barn dance, including sending Walt’s order to the deli. Since the event was a long-standing tradition, it mostly required determining what jobs Evelyn had done personally and hiring someone to take over. The other tasks, such as preparing the nearby pastures for parking and sports would be assigned, as usual, to the Boxing N cowhands.
When Walt finally settled back with his third cup, Tara started sorting another stack of papers. She found the ranch records fascinating, although it was clear where Walt’s heart lay. Anything to do with the cattle was haphazard and cryptic, liable to be tucked in any corner of the office. On the other hand, his horse-breeding records were neatly kept in a ledger with an embossed leather cover.
The Boxing N office promised to occupy a fair amount of her time in Schuyler, but she didn’t mind. It was the only large job she’d committed to; the rest were quite a bit smaller...things like auditing a small business’s previous year’s accounts and helping a dentist set up a better filing system. She’d gotten offers to take on additional local contracts, but at the moment, she was enjoying the pace of her life. Besides, her time at the Boxing N didn’t feel like work. It was different than anything she’d done before, and where else would she be able to go horseback riding in the middle of the day?
Tara was especially looking forward to sorting out the truly old Boxing N documents, along with the historic editions of the Schuyler Outpost newspaper she kept finding. She’d seen enough yellowed deeds, geological reports, ancient breeding records and bills of sale from over a century ago to get excited. Of course, the further back in time she went, the fewer papers and records she expected to find, a reminder that her career was a necessity of the modern age. She suspected an old cigar box had once been the primary storage facility for many businesses.
And it was in the older records that any sapphire information might be found, but Walt had reluctantly told her to concentrate first on what was needed for current operations.
She brewed another pot of coffee and poured Walt his fourth mug.
“Mighty good,” he grunted. He eyed her cup. “How can you drink it with cream and sugar? It covers up the flavor.”
She smiled. “How can you drink it black? Cream and sugar bring out the flavor.”
Walt’s eyes gleamed. Tara had discovered he liked it when she gave him a sassy response. The old guy had plenty of edges, but they got along well, possibly because she had her fair share of edges, too.
They chatted and had several spirited debates over the next few hours. Then he left, saying something about having another “danged appointment.” Presumably this one was in Schuyler, since otherwise Sarah McGregor would surely have insisted they stay in Helena for the night.
It wasn’t a huge surprise when Josh came to the office soon after Sarah had picked up her father. He seemed to avoid his grandfather whenever possible.
“Hi,” he said. “I, uh, wanted to thank you again for yesterday. Also for getting the payroll straightened out. Do you know when you’ll have online bill-paying established?”
“Soon. I’ve been checking in to who offers it as a service and what they require.”
“Great. Prompt payment is important for a rancher’s reputation. Unfortunately, that will be something new for the Boxing N.”
Although she’d seen enough to know he wasn’t wrong about Walt’s haphazard approach to the ranch’s business, she wanted to defend the old man.
“Your grandfather seems to be respected in town,” she returned stiffly.
“Merchants know they’ll get paid, just not when.”
“Surely that’s true of many ranchers. I understand it can be a marginal business, especially now that people aren’t eating as much red meat.”
“Grandpa and his brother did okay, despite changes to the market. But that might be what prompted them to decide what to do with their ranches when I was a kid. They wanted to be sure the Boxing N and Crazy Horse would stay in the family, so when I was eight, they made a plan to give one to Jackson and the other to me.”
Tara’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I don’t understand. Lauren told me you had a sister, Madison, who is younger than you. There was no plan for her?”
“She wasn’t interested in ranching.”
“Really? How old was she when the decision was made? Three or four? It’s rather patriarchal to decide she wasn’t interested in ranching before she’s even started school,” Tara observed in a dry tone.
Josh’s face tensed. “Maddie was in preschool. Grandpa and Uncle Mitch established an additional trust fund for her, along with ones for Trent and Alaina after they were adopted. It’s an equitable distribution.”
“I understand Trent wanted to work in construction from a young age, but it’s sexist to assume Madison and Alaina wouldn’t fall in love with ranching while growing up.”
“They didn’t,” Josh emphasized. “But if they change their minds, they can buy ranches with their trust funds.”
“That isn’t the same as owning the historic family ranch, as you well know.” It wasn’t Tara’s business, so she wasn’t sure why she was yanking Josh’s chain. Maybe she just wanted to see what would happen if she provoked him.
“Don’t ask me to justify their decision. I was a kid, so obviously I wasn’t involved. Besides, Uncle Mitch and my grandfather have put all of us in their wills.” Josh was clearly becoming irate. “Nobody is getting overlooked for any reason.”
“Good for them. It’s nice to know the McGregors and Nelsons have carefully mapped out the lives of the next generation.”
His jaw tightened further, making the angles of his face even more striking. And the way his eyes flared made her think he was aroused in another way, as well. Interesting... She might not have a passionate nature, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. What would happen if she kept pushing?
“Parents are supposed to influence their kids, but no one has controlled anybody,” he ground out. “We’re all doing what we want to do.”
“Why didn’t you work here on the ranch instead of in Texas before your grandpa retired?”
“I told you before that Walt was challenging. I tried coming here during my first college break, and Grandpa treated me worse than the greenest cowhand. Even my mother said it might be best to go somewhere else.”
Tara cocked her head. “All right, there’s something else I don’t get. If the Boxing N is so important to Walt that he couldn’t bear to retire, why didn’t he just plan to leave it to Sarah? Is it because she’s a woman, or because she married the Boxing N’s biggest rival?”
“Hell,” Josh snarled.
He clenched his teeth, breathing hard, plainly trying to keep his composure. Tara didn’t know exactly why she kept pushing, just that something inside wanted to provoke him. She lifted her chin in challenge. His control snapped as he reached out and yanked her close.
Her body yielded against his work-hardened muscles as his mouth claimed hers, firm and demanding, in a way that made every other kiss she’d shared pale in comparison. But comparisons were forgotten as the embrace softened, his lips becoming sensuous, gently opening hers.
At the same time, his hands moved over her hips, tugging her lower body close, leaving no doubt of his desire. It was intoxicating, and Tara felt an urge to throw caution to the wind. But a habit of self-protection quickly reasserted itself and she knew she shouldn’t have provoked him. After all, she wasn’t a seductress... Maybe hormones had simply made her crazy.
She stiffened and pulled back a fraction of an inch. It took only seconds before Josh’s grip eased, though his arms remained loosely around her as his breathing evened, then they dropped as well, and he stepped back.
“I’d better go,” he muttered.
He
stalked from the office, and Tara stood motionless for a moment. The previous day Josh had pointedly informed the sheriff that their lunch was merely a thank-you for her help, as if he didn’t want her, or anyone else, to think they’d gone out for social reasons. Still, that kiss showed that something was going on behind his grim exterior. It had been as hot as a kiss could get.
Taking out her purse, Tara looked into a small mirror she kept in her wallet. She smoothed her hair and renewed her lip gloss, yet it was Josh McGregor’s face that she kept seeing in her mind. He was pure, sexy heat.
Pushing the thought from her head, she focused on her work again. She’d enjoyed kissing Josh, but it was an anomaly, not to be repeated.
* * *
AT LUNCHTIME LAUREN sank into her office chair with relief. They’d had a spate of sprained ankles, wrenched shoulders, bumped heads and feet that had stepped on nails, requiring tetanus shots. Schuyler wasn’t much different than Los Angeles in that respect—it was late spring and people were taking fitness shortcuts, hoping to get in shape for summer.
Some were optimistic; one patient had wriggled into a tight bathing suit and had been scared to use the scissors on her own. Lauren had suspected pregnancy after a thorough exam.
“I shouldn’t have forced it on,” Carolyn had declared in embarrassment. “I knew I’d gained weight, but I’m so hungry these days. I can’t seem to stop eating.”
“Mmm. When was your last period?”
Carolyn had looked dumbstruck. “Uh...four months ago. But I can’t be pregnant. I mean, I thought I started menopause early.”
“We’ll do a test, but you may not want to be wearing a bikini this year.”
“Who cares?”
The pure delight on Carolyn’s face had been great, but she’d used the visit to encourage Lauren to go on a date with her brother-in-law.
“He’s a good guy,” Carolyn had declared, “and he isn’t a goofball like my husband.”
“I’m concentrating on spending time with my sister right now.” Lauren had demurred. Her patients’ matchmaking attempts continued unabated, possibly with the hope of cementing their newest physician’s assistant’s presence in the community.
A knock sounded on her office door now, and Karen came in, carrying a lovely basket of pansies.
“Another thank-you from a patient, I guess,” Karen said, setting it on the desk and rushing out when the phone rang.
Her face brightening, Lauren pulled the card out; she’d received a number of bouquets. It was nice that Schuyler was so intent on keeping her in town, and the bouquets were far more welcome than matchmaking. Best of all, this particular offering was pansies. She loved pansies; they were such homey, bright little blossoms.
But when she opened the card, she bit her lip. The basket was from Carl Stanfield.
Lauren, I saw these and couldn’t resist sending them to you. Would you have dinner with me tomorrow? Give me a quick call when you have the opportunity. I hope you can come. I’m taking a few days off, and eating dinner with a friend would be a pleasant way to begin my break.
—Carl
Lauren clutched the note tightly and wished she felt free to accept Carl’s invitation without any angst or second thoughts. Still, why shouldn’t she go? He’d described it as spending time with a friend, and pansies weren’t exactly a romantic flower. So maybe it would be all right.
Sitting forward, she grabbed the phone and dialed his home number before she chickened out. As expected, she got his voice mail, which might be a little cowardly, but it was easier to inject the right tone that way.
“Hi, Carl,” she said, her voice light and casual. “Thanks for the flowers. Dinner tomorrow would be great, but I can’t stay out late because I have to work on Saturday. How about coming over between four thirty and five? Or if you prefer, I can meet you somewhere. Bye.”
Putting the receiver down, she realized her heart was pounding and she hadn’t taken a breath.
She needed to calm down. There was no way she could call back and say she’d changed her mind; that would make her look like a dithering idiot.
It would be all right. Wouldn’t it?
* * *
AFTER LEAVING THE Boxing N office, Josh busted his butt, moving loads of hay, grooming the horses and cleaning out the stalls. He couldn’t believe he’d given in to his attraction for Tara. What an utterly asinine move. And what if it made her think he was interested in starting something with her?
He shuddered. As if. However beautiful she was, Tara was also a city woman and far too stubborn and sharp tongued. More than that, she was an international traveler who planned to spend her life hopping from one country to another. She’d be wrong for him even if she did something totally out of character and decided to stay in Schuyler. She was a woman who wore silk shirts, didn’t care about ranching and seemed to delight in making his life difficult.
Damn. He didn’t want to even think about Tara.
Josh was working in the big barn when Andrew arrived, saying he’d been approved for light activity.
“You shouldn’t rush it,” Josh told him, thinking that “light” activity was too ambiguous for his taste. Light work on a ranch might be strenuous to an office worker.
“Don’t knock it, boss,” Clyde Hawes advised. He’d been working alongside Josh, helping with the maintenance and repairs that had been neglected in the months since Grandpa’s accident. “I appreciate a man who doesn’t let anything get in the way of working hard.”
Andrew’s chin rose higher. There was a bandage on his forehead and he had a black eye, but he seemed able. “Honest, the doctor said it was okay to come back—claims I have a head like a rock.”
“Clyde, why don’t you take Andrew out to ride fences for a couple of hours?” Josh asked. Riding fence lines was his favorite chore on the ranch, but he couldn’t do it all. “Show him how to handle any issues, but don’t let him overdo it.”
“Sure thing.”
“Find me before you leave for the day,” Josh added. “There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Clyde nodded. Much to Andrew’s disgust, he insisted on saddling both horses, and they rode out with the teenager still protesting that nobody had to babysit him.
The corner of Josh’s mouth twitched as he finished repairing a broken hinge on one of the stalls. Andrew was eager. He hoped to buy his own ranch someday and wanted to learn everything possible from hands-on, daily effort. In some ways he was mature beyond his years; in others he was a typical hormone-driven eighteen-year-old male.
As for Clyde Hawes?
He would be a good choice for the Boxing N’s foreman. Clyde was the most experienced of the hands and wasn’t overly concerned about the often conflicting orders he got. He’d give Walt a nod of respect, talk to him about the old days of ranching and quietly do whatever Josh had asked him to do in the first place.
Josh decided he’d offer Clyde the foreman’s job and make an effort to step out of his way. Owner and foreman were two different roles, and he had to learn to be an owner. He just wished it hadn’t been Tara Livingston who’d identified the problem.
Josh wiped the sweat from his forehead and dropped his tools into the box.
Perhaps he should talk to Tara and make sure there weren’t any misunderstandings between them. Her car was still parked near the office and he’d prefer to handle it as soon as possible. What’s more, it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with his grandfather around, and Walt would be at his physical therapy appointment until late afternoon.
Once Clyde and Andrew had ridden out of sight, he went straight to the office.
“Hey, Tara,” he announced as he came through the door, “there’s something we need to clarify.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“It’s about earlier. I want
to get things out in the open. That kiss shouldn’t have happened and I want you to know that I wasn’t trying to start anything. That is, I’m not interested in a long-term relationship right now. I simply can’t afford the distraction.”
“Oh, really?” she asked in a sugary tone. “What made you think I was hunting for a husband or that I’d want to stay in Montana with someone who considers a relationship to be an unwelcome distraction?”
Josh winced, realizing how arrogant he must have sounded. He’d made more than his share of blunders lately. His mouth was running ahead of his brain so much it was surprising that anyone in his family or the town was willing to talk with him. He should have just said he wasn’t interested in dating.
Tara continued crisply, “I’ve had offers from men in other parts of the world and I haven’t accepted any of them. Now you think I’m yearning for happily-ever-after with an obnoxious rancher? Considering the size of your ego, it’s a good thing you live in Montana—a smaller state wouldn’t have room for it.”
“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I didn’t consider my words carefully enough.”
“That’s a serious understatement.”
Josh wheeled and marched out, furious that he’d stuck his foot in his mouth yet again.
It was ironic that despite his large family, he felt isolated. He couldn’t discuss the problems with his grandfather with anyone in the family, but especially not with his parents. His mom was still grieving and didn’t need to listen to his complaints about her father. And while he’d always been close to Jackson, he hadn’t been comfortable talking it over with him, either. Their circumstances were different. Great-Uncle Mitch had happily retired when the time came, with no attempts to keep running the Crazy Horse Ranch.
The truth was that he hadn’t spent much time with any of his family since returning to Montana. Instead, he’d been consumed by the Boxing N.
In the corral Josh saddled Lightfoot and rode out, eyeing the cattle scattered across the landscape. That morning he’d done his best to determine if any were missing, but the numbers seemed all right. Clyde and the other hands agreed. So the cut fence might have been simple vandalism, not theft.
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