Loving Her Cowboy Boss

by Rose Verde

  Andy tightened his little arms across his chest. Silent. But the redness of his face alerted Chance to an impending outburst. Chance rubbed his arms to soothe him while saying a silent prayer for wisdom. “It’s me, your Dad, remember?”

  His lips trembled. “He calls me names.”

  Chance inclined his head. “What kind of names?”

  “He says I’m dumb and stupid.”

  “Does your teacher know?”

  He shook his head.

  Chance picked the boy up and sat on the sofa holding him. “You’re not stupid. You’re just different.”

  “I hate being different.” His eyes, just like Chance’s, swam with unshed tears. “I don’t want to be different anymore.”

  “We don’t get to make those choices, buddy.”

  Instead of responding, he buried his face in Chance's chest and sobs shook his small body. As he held his boy and let him cry, he decided he was the boy’s only advocate. And he was rising to that challenge, come storm or high water.

  Chance heaved a sigh, his hand rubbing Andy’s arm continuously while he sobbed his eyes out. Chance wasn’t sure if it was the name calling that got to Andy more, or because he was different. God, how am I gonna do this? Combining homeschooling and ranch work is next to impossible.

  “I don’t want to go to school anymore,” Andy said between sniffles.

  Chance eased him up, wiping his red eyes. His heart broke at the look in his son’s eyes. “Is that what you want?”

  He nodded.

  “I was thinking... If I got someone who would teach you to read and write, do some studying all by yourself, will you like that?”

  He was already shaking his head. “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

  “I got that, buddy. The teacher will come here to teach you. How does that sound?”

  Chance held his breath as Andy seemed to consider his offer. His look was dubious.

  “Will I like her?”

  What made him think of the teacher possibly being a female? “We’ll see about that, bud. Wanna hang out with me in the den while I do some paperwork?”

  He nodded. Chance ruffled his hair, then set him on his feet. “Let’s get some sandwiches and then go to the den.”

  He took Andy by the hand and headed into the kitchen. Andy climbed onto the high stool and watched while Chance prepared sandwiches for them. “Why did you not tell your teacher that Bruno was calling you names?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want to.”

  “Why not? Did you ever tell her and she didn’t listen?”

  He nodded. “She told him to stop calling me names but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “If you told her, then she’d know he didn’t stop. Bullying is not allowed for any reason.”

  “But, you said I won’t go back to that school again.”

  “I’m not saying you’re going back. I just want to understand why your teacher didn’t do anything about Bruno.” Not that he was sure what they would’ve done. But, maybe something. Anything that kept his son in school. “Can you wash your hands, please?”

  “Yes, daddy.”

  Chance grabbed a couple of bottled waters, handed Andy his own sandwich and then took his. When they got to the den overflowing with volumes, ledgers, odds and ends, he set their food on the huge mahogany table his father had bought just before his illness. If anything, Chance didn’t regret coming back to the ranch. “Eat your food. I’m going to do some work.”

  Andy sat across from him and dug into his meal.

  Unless he found someone he could trust with Andy, he wasn’t sure of the next step going forward. Calving was starting in a few days. Meaning dawn to dusk work.

  I’m floundering here, Lord.

  My grace is sufficient for you and My strength is made perfect in weakness. The words breathed across his soul, easing the weight on his shoulders.

  Chance sat down and ate. When he was done, he guzzled down the bottled water and tossed it in the bin. He opened his ledger and imputed his expenses for the week. He’d been up to date which was a good thing. When he finished what he needed to do, he took Andy to the keyboard and they went over the song he'd been learning. All the while, Chance's mind ran in circles as to what his next step would be.

  When Andy got tired, he let him watch cartoons while Chance composed an email regarding the homeschooling thing. When he was done, he scoured the internet looking for a possible candidate for home tutoring. By the time he put Andy to bed hours later, Chance’s body was humming with frustration.

  Later that night, after his night rounds, needing to talk to someone, Chance picked up his phone and dialed his sister’s cell phone. Hopefully, he’d catch her while she was free.

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  That brought a smile to his face like it always did. At twenty-eight, his sister still thought him a kid. Agreed there were ten years between them.

  “To what do I owe this call?”

  “Are you saying I don’t call unless I have a need?”

  “You know that’s the way it is. I only let you off the hook because the ranch keeps you busy round the clock. How’s my little nephew?”

  “Fine. He’s the reason I’m calling.” Chance sat at the kitchen island and pushed a hand through his hair.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Sure. But, he’s having problems at school. Obviously he’s been getting bullied. He’s had detention three days in a row as opposed to sporadic episodes in the past months.”

  “What’s the school doing about it? Andy is a sweet little boy.”

  “Which threw me for a loop when this all started. Last term was fine, until a new boy joined their class. It struck me as odd that he fought with the same child everyday.

  “His teacher has been keeping things under wraps and told me yesterday they wouldn’t have an option other than to suspend him. In their defense, they didn’t know about the bullying, that it’s been ongoing. At least that’s what his teacher said. And until now, Andy clamped up and wouldn’t say why he got into frequent fights.”

  He poured coffee into a mug and carried it back to his spot at the table. He needed that for his night watches.

  “It’s been on for months now, if she really didn’t know, it says a lot about her. What’s your plan?”

  “I plan to notify the school to let them know that he wouldn’t be returning, at least not anytime soon. That’s a huge step and I’m second guessing myself already. But his pediatrician thinks it might be the best step for a while to home school him.” Chance toyed with the coffee mug while waiting for his brew to cool. “We’re concerned about him getting kicked out of school, what that will do to him. But then, I’m afraid I’m failing at this parenting thing.”

  “No. You’re not. Do you remember how you pulled through all those years? You always pull through. But, Andy has special needs. Talk to his pediatrician and see if you can get recommendations, someone to get you off your feet.”

  “She recommended someone but I’m not comfortable with her.”

  “Why? If she was recommended, then she’d be good. You can’t possibly just pick someone at random.”

  The thought of telling his sister why he didn’t want the pediatrician’s recommendation felt ridiculous now. “Anyway, I want to give him a break for a few days. Thanks for listening. I just needed a sounding board, someone to tell me I haven’t gone bonkers.”

  “No, you haven’t, kiddo. I could ask a few friends from way back if they know people trained to give specialized teaching for dyslexic kids. This too shall pass, okay? And trust me, it’s not that big of a deal. We just need to figure out how to meet his needs and he’d do just fine.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m thinking of bringing the kids down for a weekend. They missed the Easter Egg hunt on the ranch and want to do it all the same even though Easter is past. Jad will be out of town throughout that week.”

  “That will be great. Andy will have friends to play with. I’ll tell
him.”

  Minutes later, the call ended, he took a sip from his mug.

  Chance paced from one end of his kitchen to another needing a vent for his feelings.

  Tomorrow would offer him a clearer view of everything that transpired today.

  For today, he was way too wound up to think straight.

  Chapter Three

  Sam surveyed her plant on her back porch. The cool spring morning air blew across the place and her flowers swayed in its caress. She always loved the spring bloom and looked forward to it. Francesca, her next door neighbor, had agreed to help her watch over them, if she decided to take her trip. She’d held on for this long because she kept thinking the cowboy would call.

  Two weeks. The rancher had not gotten in contact. Her phone rang and she checked the ID to see her friend, Chris’s number display on the screen. Sam swiped the screen. “Hey, Chris. How are you doing?”

  “Good. I was calling to follow up on Andy. Have you started working with him? I’ve been calling his dad but sometimes I know the internet can be wonky out there. I haven’t been able to get him.”

  Sam poured water under the daffodils. “I guess he changed his mind. He hasn’t been in touch. I wasn’t holding out much hope. Looks like he has a thing against women. Maybe if I were a man it would’ve been different.”

  Chris laughed. “I’m a woman and we’ve worked well together since I became Andy’s pediatrician. Was it because of what he said that day at my office?”

  Sam shrugged as though Chris could see her. “It doesn’t matter though. Whatever he decides is up to him. I’m already dreaming of time away. Might as well do that.”

  “And if he gets in touch?”

  “I doubt he will.”

  “I think he will. I’ve got to run. Let me know if he does get in touch then.”

  “Sure.” When the call ended, Sam donned her gloves and added some manure to the plant. She’d been surprised that he’d taken her number and never called to talk to her or get the references. Eventually, he’d get in touch, her friend had said.

  She’d thought so too. But after fourteen days, she’d decided to go ahead with her vacation plans. Maybe it wasn’t in God’s plan that she’d help the rancher’s boy.

  Somehow, the suspicious look in those brown eyes didn’t leave her. Her last ward, Audrey, was returning back to school after a year of homeschooling. A good thing Sam had started applying in schools. When she returned from her trip, she’d be more serious about finding a more regular job. She loved the flexibility of working with individual clients and hated the straight jacketed structure of schools. But, that was what it was and she could deal with that.

  Her phone rang as she removed dead leaves from the flowers. She pulled off her gloves and grabbed the device. It was a strange number. “Sam Walter here.”

  “Chance Caruthers.”

  Her heart tripped up, but she put it to the fact that she’d not expected his call.

  “If you send me names, I’d love to cross check your references. In the meantime, you have four months. If I don’t see any changes in my son in that period, then we’re through.”

  Picking up the hose, she continued her watering. “Mr. Caruthers, children don’t—”

  “Ms. Walter, for some odd reason, I think this is important to you. I’m giving my son the chance you talked about, and a chance to prove you could do something about him. So, four months. Deal or no deal?”

  Sam hesitated for the longest time. “Deal.”

  “Anything I need to get ready?” he asked.

  “Not immediately,” she stammered, not sure why she let his brusque attitude upset her.

  Did he have to be so disagreeable?

  “Okay, then.” The phone went dead in her ear.

  She hadn’t even asked when she’d start with the child. They needed to talk, know what to expect. She turned off the tap and headed inside, redialing his number. “Before you blow me off, we need to sit and talk.”

  He was silent for a moment. “How do we meet?”

  “You tell me when you’re coming into town and we can meet up. Otherwise, I could come over to your place. I live in Medicine Hat.” She guessed he’d know that since that’s where Chris’s office was, and where they met.

  “You got a paper there? I could dictate my address.”

  “Sure. Let me find something. Or how about you text me directions?”

  “Okay. I’m sending it right away. If you run into any problems, reach me on this line.”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s a little over an hour out from Medicine Hat. Can you make eight?” his tone was very matter of fact, no nonsense. She wondered again if it was anything about her that made him all wound tight like a malfunctioning clock.

  “I can.”

  “See you at eight.” He rang off for the second time. The guy needed some training in phone etiquette. If he ended the call he made, he had to end the one she made. Ugh! Dratted guy.

  Seconds later, her phone pinged. She scrolled down to read the address. He added, make it eight prompts at the end.

  She didn’t have any problems with his time frame. Just his thinking that he could dole out commands would definitely get her goat. Two options faced her—blow him off and head off to Tahiti or take up the little boy.

  Her brother’s face hovered in the edges of her vision.

  And she knew what she needed to do.

  Chapter Four

  Sam pulled up in front of the big ranch house and cut the engine. She glanced at her dashboard. Five minutes early. Perfect. She’d never been to Bindloss area or a ranch for that matter. Brown sagebrush and prairie grass stretched as far as the eyes could see, disappearing into the horizon. No sign of modern-day life to spoil the view. As much as she knew, the Red Deer river flowed through ranches in the area. It looked like a place someone could get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

  Undoing her belt, she opened her door. Once Sam set her foot on the ranch soil, she knew she’d made a bad choice of shoes in her bright red stiletto which sank almost half way into the soft ground. The rain the night prior hadn’t been so heavy, thank God. Bad deal if she kissed the ground. What had she been thinking? That she was coming for one of Oprah Winfrey’s shows?

  Too late to consider the option of going back, the object of her visit stood silhouetted against the door. His disdain as he glanced from her shoes back to her face was apparent. What did his opinion matter? When she was dressing for the fund raiser Jillian organized, she hadn’t considered she’d be stopping at the ranch first. What would he think of her?

  Watching her steps, she walked over and stood short of the porch step.

  “Those are fit for the office. Here, you’ll break your neck.”

  She didn’t owe him any explanation. “Good to know.” Climbing up, she stopped in front of him, her shoes leveraging her five-foot-seven height disadvantage. She stretched out her hand. “Sam Walter, at your service.”

  He considered her hand for a few seconds, then grabbed it in a manly handshake of warm, strong calloused palm against her soft ones. “Come in.”

  He turned and headed inside. Sam took a few seconds to glance around. Several large horses grazed a distance from the house in well kept paddocks, their tails swishing around as though they were enjoying their meal. The ranch looked huge. How did he manage this?

  “Are you coming?”

  “Uh, yes.” She entered into a large living room in the two story log house. The warmth in the room enveloped her. From the curtains, to furniture, there was nothing feminine in the house.

  “Have a seat.” He pointed to a warm coffee brown sofa that complemented the hardwood floors and hand crafted center table. The atmosphere was peaceful, inviting.

  “Thank you.” She sat and placed her matching red handbag beside her.

  “What may I offer you? Coffee, pop?” His tone sounded like she was there on sufferance. Well, but for the child she hoped to help, she didn’t fancy some gr
umpy rancher who didn’t seem to have any use for women or any friendly streak in his ruggedly handsome face. If he smiled a little, he’d look way better... She cut the thought.

  “I’m okay, thank you.” Sam settled on the sofa. He sat too. “Where’s your son?”

  “In his room. Andrew is dyslexic. Never thought much of the word until I discovered he couldn’t do what most kids his age could do. Plus, learning for him is flat out poor. When his teacher first suggested it, I disregarded it. After all, he’d just started school less than a year ago. Only it didn’t go away like we thought. He had some tests done and...” he paused like he couldn’t repeat the word. “What do you propose to do with him?”

  “First, I have to know what your plans are—regular school time, number of times per week—”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure what works best. And that’s why you’re here to tell me what to do. I’ve set the proverbial ball in motion to start him homeschooling. Calving season is upon us and I need to figure out a thousand and one things.”

  “Does the school know?”

  “Not yet. I have an email composed, I just didn’t send it in. I figured I’d tell them in person.”

  “That has to be done ASAP so as not to cause unnecessary trouble, as I’m sure they will be calling you soon.”

  “They did. I’m going up town today. I’ll let them know.”

  “Great. Children like your son need a caring adult who would step in to guide them and provide help as they deal with who they are. I won’t bore you with a lot of jargon, but what I’ll be using is a direct, structured multisensory sequential approach that would help develop his interest in learning. You’re free to come watch us when you have the time, which I hope is frequent enough. He needs your support, to know you’re behind him cheering him on. But, I must warn you. four months is too short a time to expect huge changes.”