Perhaps the problem was that Kate had always compared him to her father, who talked to people easily, frequently told his family he loved them, and didn’t see an apology as a sign of weakness. Her grandfather just wasn’t like that.
Maybe Landon was right. Maybe her grandpa had given her the ranch not as a punishment but because he hoped she’d like ranching. The idea definitely gave her something to think about.
The next day when Dewayne came to the house—at the crack of dawn—to discuss what needed to be done, Kate showed him her injured hands. He rolled his eyes, almost subtly, and gave her a small mountain of paperwork to tackle.
For dinner, she had an omelet. She’d begun eating eggs for two meals a day in a futile attempt to keep the things from taking over the fridge. The ranch’s hens, fowl overachievers, produced two dozen a day. A hipster guy with dreadlocks stopped by twice a week to buy five dozen for a grocery store in Bisbee. Her grandfather used to sell the rest of the eggs to locals—friends who’d stopped by in the evening to chat.
No one had come by since her grandfather died, though. Apparently his old customers had been more interested in visiting with him than getting a good price on free range eggs.
While Kate ate, she contemplated how loud the ticking of the kitchen clock was. The thing sounded like a cutting board chopping away the seconds of her life. A year. She had to stay here a year, alone and isolated, with nothing but a surly foreman, a bunch of animals, and the pressure of failure to keep her company. Well, those and Mr. Temptation next door. And the lonelier she got, the more tempting he was going to seem. Dating the guy who wanted to take Coyote Glen from her was a bad idea in so many ways.
She’d toyed with the idea of doing some interior decorating on the side, but her parents had reminded her—insisted, really—that her first priority had to be the ranch. Running it would take most of her time. She’d have to console herself with completely redecorating her grandparents’ house, which she’d already started. Every faded valence, battered lampshade, and worn-out piece of furniture was gone. She only kept sentimental items, things that reminded her of her grandparents. She’d find ways to work them into the décor. But even that project wouldn’t be enough to keep her sane.
She’d have to put some effort into making friends—the sooner the better. Church would provide opportunities. Granted, no one had said much to her last Sunday when she’d gone with her family, but that was probably because they were giving her family space to grieve. Kate was to blame, too, because she hadn’t gone out of her way to talk to anyone. Mostly, she’d spent her time stealing glances at Landon Wyle in the pew across the chapel.
Why did the man have to look so good in a suit?
Anyway, Bisbee was only a twenty-five-minute drive, and the city must have people she’d click with. She just had to get to know them…somehow.
When Kate was a child, she’d gravitated to the Wyle boys for a reason. Isolation made people inclusive. It had made them friends. But now she needed to be wary of the Wyles. Her grandfather had probably not considered this when he wrote his will—the fact that he was pitting the neighbors he loved against her.
The next day’s schedule included pregnancy checks for the heifers. The cows’ turn would come later. Kate and Dewayne guided them through the corral and into the squeeze chute, a contraption that held each cow in place so the vet could use an ultrasound wand to see what was inside. Mostly Kate tried not to get trampled.
When the vet, a woman named Angelina Rossi, first climbed out of her truck with her two assistants, Kate was almost pathetically happy to meet her. The assistants were young men, who immediately went over to talk to Dewayne, but Angelina had friend potential. She was in her late-twenties with high cheekbones and a sharp nose that made her look imperious. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a French braid, and even though she wore a pair of Carhartt overalls, she had an intellectual air to her, like she would be equally comfortable in a library or at a symphony.
The two of them probably had lots in common. And better yet, Angelina must know other women in the area. Perhaps Kate was just one book club invitation away from finding a place to fit in.
As Angelina went to the back of her truck for her equipment, Kate strode up to her with a smile, ready to extend her still bandaged hand. “Hi. I’m Kate Benton, Cal’s granddaughter.”
Angelina barely spared her a glance. “Yes, I know who you are. I imagine most folks around here do by now.” She didn’t say the phrase like it was a compliment.
Kate stopped her forward progress. Her hand fell back at her side, and her stomach did a nervous flip. She tried to hide it. “Is that so? I’m impressed I’m so well known, since most folks have never met me.”
“Word gets around. People respect the Wyle brothers and ranch folks tend to stick together.” Angelina pulled on plastic gloves that nearly reached her armpits. “No one can believe you’re planning on cutting off water to their ranch. Cal would have cut off his own hand rather than see that happen. And a western-themed golf course? Please, that’s so low class.”
Kate’s stomach went from a flip to full-on horrified clench. First, the woman had no business speaking to her like that, and second, the Wyles—despite their professions of neighborly help—had told people about her parents’ plans and turned everyone against her. Kate never should’ve divulged that sort of information to Landon in the first place. Now she not only wouldn’t have friends, she’d also have to face people’s hostility for an entire year. Perhaps Kate should’ve expected that, but it still came as a shock. She had nothing to do with the fact that the Wyles’ wells had run dry.
“It seems to me,” Kate said as politely as she could, “the real problem is with the water regulations around here. The government makes it impossible to drill new wells.”
“True.” Angelina picked up an ultrasound wand and a screen from the back of her truck. “Anytime you have people who understand nothing about ranching making policy, there’s going to be widespread incompetency and poor decisions.” She sent Kate a look that indicated she considered her part of the widespread incompetency and poor decision makers. Then, with wand and screen in hand, Angelina headed toward the squeeze chute to set up her equipment.
So, no book clubs. No fitting in. And the reason people hadn’t spoken to her at church had nothing to do with giving her space to grieve. The eggs, well, those were going to keep piling up unless she decided to go egg the Wyle Away in revenge.
Kate didn’t try to speak to Angelina again. She just let her get on with her job. This involved her repeatedly sticking the ultrasound wand and her entire arm into the heifer’s backside. Yeah, Kate wasn’t going to be able to get that image out of her mind for a long time.
She told herself that the day could only get better. It didn’t really. While releasing the heifers back to pasture, more than one of them knocked into her. At dinner time, Kate couldn’t force herself to sit alone in her grandparents’ kitchen or eat more eggs. She decided to drive to Bisbee to pick up supplies and wallow in some fast food.
Most of the stores in Bisbee catered to tourists: antique shops, jewelry stores, and galleries. When she was a teenager, she’d loved exploring the boutiques and artisan restaurants with her grandmother. Now Kate needed to spend her money on practical things.
After a burrito, she went to the tractor and feed store. She found a pair of boots so sturdy they looked like they would make it through a war, then wandered the aisles, putting things into her cart.
She paused in front of the mineral blocks and double checked her list. Dewayne hadn’t specified what size to buy, the bread loaf-sized one or the one that looked like it weighed forty pounds. She was about to text him, when she saw Jaxon pushing a cart her way…or maybe Dillon.
He grinned. “Hey, Kitty.”
“Hey…Jaxon. You’re Jaxon, right?”
“That all depends. Are you still mad at Jaxon for getting you kicked off that cattle drive? Because if you are, I’m totally Dillon.”
Definitely Jaxon. She smiled despite herself. “I never blamed you for that.”
“Good,” he said.
“That’s not to say I don’t blame you for other things.”
“Oh?” He leaned his elbows on the handle of his cart. “Did I ruin you for other men? You couldn’t find one who kissed as well?”
“Sure, that,” she said. “But I was talking about the way everyone already knows about my grandfather’s will, and they’ve decided I’m horrible for not handing over Coyote Glen to your family. What have you guys told people?”
“Everyone knows?” Jaxon asked, challenging her on that point instead of answering the question. “And everyone, as a group, decided you’re horrible?”
“Dr. Rossi’s words, not mine.”
“Ah.” Jaxon nodded as though the accusation made sense now. “Angelina’s a bit prejudiced. She thinks she’s got a vested interest in the outcome. I’m guessing the rest of everyone isn’t quite as decided about your personality.”
Meaning, Kate supposed, Angelina was prejudiced because she was a vet and her livelihood was connected to taking care of cattle. Kate hadn’t considered that when she’d been angling for an invitation to that hypothetical book club.
“We would never badmouth you,” Jaxon went on. “We’re not that sort. We might take wagers on how long you’ll last, but that’s different.” He winked. “Forty percent think you’ll buckle when the temperature hits ninety-five.”
Kate sighed. The forty percent had a point. Really, why had her grandfather decided to raise cattle in such a hot place?
“So, how are you managing?” Jaxon asked. “Is ranch life living up to its glamorous reputation?”
“Oh, yes. Today the vet did pregnancy checks on the heifers. I’m supposed to decide whether to sell off the others for slaughter.”
“How many didn’t catch?”
Catch meant get pregnant, as though the whole thing was some sort of sporting event with a ball. “Nine.” A little worse than average.
Jaxon shrugged. “Your herd will grow after calving season, so you can sell those now and you won’t be down by ten percent at the end of the year.”
Dewayne basically told her the same thing, and she hadn’t liked it then either. “Slaughtering animals just because they didn’t conceive after three months seems harsh. What if the bull just wasn’t their type?”
“Or they might be infertile,” Jaxon said. “No point in feeding cattle who’ll never make you money.”
That made the decision feel worse. “My mother had infertility issues.” Although obviously not at first. “That’s why there’s so many years in between Libby and me. How could I slaughter cows for the same problem?”
Jaxon dipped his chin. “You realize Coyote Glen is a cattle ranch, not a charitable resort for animals.”
Landon walked up behind her and joined his brother, immediately stealing her attention. His blond hair had sun-kissed streaks, and his blue eyes looked darker, almost gray. They viewed her with patient amusement. “Don’t bother trying to talk her into killing animals. Most likely, she won’t sell off any of them. And I’m sure she’s happily feeding the pigeons too.”
She smiled at him. “Being an animal lover isn’t a bad thing.”
“It’s not a bad thing for me at all,” Landon agreed, “since you’ll end up running Coyote Glen into debt. I don’t mind liquidating the excess when I take over.”
“Fine,” she said with a resigned huff. “I’ll sell some.” When he put it like that, she didn’t have much of a choice. Her eyes lingered on him and flashes of memory surfaced: the way he’d gently held her hands and caressed ointment onto them, the way he’d carried her to the couch and looked at her with such concern. Had he thought of her at all since those events?
Landon took a large mineral block from the shelf and put it in Jaxon’s cart. “A rule of thumb when you’re culling cows is to get rid of the ones who are older or have difficulty calving first.”
She tilted her head. “How come you’re giving me advice when you don’t want me to succeed?”
Jaxon smirked. “Comes from too many years spent as an older brother. He can’t help himself. Advice just pops out of his mouth.”
“Right.” Landon motioned down the aisle. “Like right now I’m going to advise you to go load the feed onto the truck.”
“See what I mean?” Jaxon held up his hands to his brother in surrender. “I’m going. I’m going.”
Landon turned back to Kate. “Let Dewayne help you decide which cattle to send to the sale barn. He’s experienced enough to know what to do.”
Dewayne’s suggestions—all nine-—still seemed severe. Maybe a few of the heifers needed another round with the bull before their fate was sealed. Calving later in the year was less convenient, but still doable. “Thanks. I’ll figure out what’s best for the ranch.”
He eyed her in a way that made her feel like he was peering into her mind. “Here’s some more advice you’ll probably ignore: when the new calves are born, don’t name them. You’re never going to be able to slaughter an animal you’ve named.”
It was a harsh reminder. Many of the sweet doe-eyed calves would be destined for the meat shelf. All of them, eventually. “I somehow doubt you’re just a compulsive advice giver. Why are you really trying to help me?”
He shook his head as though he wasn’t certain himself. “I guess I have a thing for damsels in distress. Well, that and I’m hoping if I make you a reasonable offer on the land, we can still come to a financial arrangement.”
A way for her to get out of ranching and still help her family? She perked up. “What sort of financial arrangement?”
“You agree to sell me the land for a fair price, and then you don’t have to stick it out for the year.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “A bird in the hand instead of three hundred and fifty-one more days of hauling hay bales to the bull pen. Not that I’m counting.”
“Exactly.”
“I can stick it out,” she said.
“Of course you can.”
“What’s your offer going to be?”
He gave her a slow grin. “Maybe I should wait until it’s calving season to tell you—right around the time you find yourself reaching into a cow to pull out a calf.”
She tapped her fingers on the cart handle, refusing to flinch at the thought. “Actually, I’ve always found birth to be one of the miracles of nature.”
“That’s because you’ve never had to deal with the mess that comes with the miracle. There’s lots of bloody goo. If the cow’s having twins, you might have to untangle them first.”
Not a pleasant thought. “Isn’t that what vets are for?”
“Sure, if they can get there in time and you want to pay their fee. When it’s twins, one of them usually dies.”
Angelina would be in no rush to help her. Probably no one in the area would.
“If your cow has a prolapsed uterus,” Landon went on, “you’ve got to know how to push that back in. You might want to start studying up now.”
Kate stifled a groan and reached for the nearest large mineral block. Before she could sufficiently get a handle on it, Landon picked it up for her and placed it in her cart. “I see you’re going easy on your hands like I suggested.”
She’d planned on being careful. She was going to lift with her arms. “I haven’t slapped anyone,” she pointed out.
A small hmpf of indignation sounded behind her. Kate turned to see a plump middle-aged woman sidling up to the mineral blocks. “Small wonder,” she muttered.
The woman’s brown hair was bobbed at her chin and her lipstick was some shade of red that probably called itself firecracker or in-your-face crimson. No one familiar. Kate stared at her, trying to figure out how she’d offended the woman.
Landon spoke to her politely as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”
The woman’s scowl changed, light switch fast,
as she turned to Landon. She was all consolation to him. “The world is full of problems, but none that are your fault, I dare say.”
Landon chuckled uncomfortably. “I’m not sure everyone would agree with you about that.” To Kate, he said, “This is Stacy Reynolds. She and her husband run a bed and breakfast in Bisbee and have a ranch outside of town.”
A lot of ranchers had other jobs, sometimes to provide healthcare and sometimes because they didn’t have enough cattle to support themselves. Her grandfather had only been able to earn a good living because he’d inherited the land and a fairly large heard from his parents.
As Mrs. Reynolds reached for a mineral block, Landon plucked it off the shelf. “Let me get that for you, ma’am.” He deposited it in her cart.
The woman beamed at him. “Your parents would be proud of the way you’ve turned out. Always so thoughtful. Always helping others.” She sent a sideways frown at Kate. “We need more people like that around here and less that would sell the ground from under your feet to make a few dollars.”
Landon’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. He followed Mrs. Reynolds’s glower to Kate and only then seemed to understand that the woman’s comments had been directed at her.
Mrs. Reynolds pushed her cart away, mumbling, “A golf course. Cal would cry.”
Which was really too much. Kate couldn’t even shop without strangers insulting her. She folded her arms and pursed her lips at Landon. He was still gaping after Mrs. Reynolds like he couldn’t quite believe the things she’d said.
“So,” Kate said, “how many other people in Bisbee fervently hate me?”
His gaze returned to her. “I’m sure no one fervently hates you.”
Well, a poll might find otherwise. “What have you been telling people about me?”
Landon held up his hands. “I haven’t said anything about you.”
Kate’s lips went back to pursed position. “Right. Everyone knows about the golf course.”
“I just told a few people about the will. Stop glaring at me, Kitty. I had to tell people. One way or another, things are going to change for me in a year. I’ve got to make provisions and set things in order.”
The Cowboy and the Girl Next Door: (A Clean, Enemies to Lovers Romance) Wyle Away Ranch Book 1 Page 8
