The Rancher's City Girl

“Would you hold just a moment?” Eloise said, then brought the phone with her into his bedroom and covered the mouthpiece with one hand.

“This is your cousin’s daughter. She wanted to say hello. Are you up for it?”

Mr. Bessler gestured for phone and she handed it over.

“Hello?” he said.

Eloise left the room to give her patient some privacy, but she could still hear his one-word responses. The quiet was truncated by grunts and “uh-huhs” coming from the other room. After a few minutes, he heaved a sigh.

“No— Melissa, was it? No. I’ve already written a will and decided where my estate will go.”

Eloise cringed and covered her eyes with one hand.

“I understand completely,” Mr. Bessler went on. “But I’m not interested in funding your education. Goodbye.”

The phone beeped as he hung up the handset. For a long moment, no sound emerged from the room, but after a couple of minutes, Mr. Bessler’s voice wavered as he called, “Red?”

Eloise pushed open the bedroom door. Mr. Bessler lay on his bed in the dim bedroom, the phone atop his chest. “Yes, sir?”

“That was a young woman named Melissa.”

“Yes, she mentioned that.” Eloise attempted to sound as impartial as possible.

“She was very thoughtful,” he went on quietly. “She heard I was dying and had no children, and she very kindly offered to let me pay her school bills.”

Eloise grimaced. “That’s horrible.”

“She’ll probably make an excellent lawyer.”

“I beg to differ,” Eloise muttered.

“Anyhow, I told her I wasn’t interested.” Mr. Bessler breathed deeply through his nose. “I don’t want to take any more calls from her, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem,” she replied. “I’m sorry about that, sir. Some people are just heartless.”

He waved it off. “It’s part of the package, I’m afraid.”

“What package?” Eloise asked.

“Someone has to get my money, and everyone thinks they deserve it.”

Eloise remained silent, pity welling up inside her.

“The ironic thing is,” the old man said softly, “There isn’t much left.” He laughed hoarsely.

“There might be charities willing to help pay my wages—”

“Never mind that.” Mr. Bessler shook his head. “I’ll pay you. But I won’t let some cousin’s daughter try to wring money out of my estate.”

Tears misted Eloise’s vision, and she blinked them back. Facing death was hard enough surrounded by family and friends. She couldn’t imagine having to think about her own mortality without anyone close to her. It seemed like the time to reach out to people, but Mr. Bessler refused.

“I’m all right, Red,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Don’t you waste those tears on me.” His eyes drooped again. “I’ve got Ruth up there watching over me, and the Lord hasn’t left me alone yet.”

“And you have me, Mr. Bessler,” she reminded him.

“Maybe it’s time you called me Robert,” he said. “It’s less formal, and you’re probably the best friend I’ve got right now, Red.”

She smiled. “Thanks. You also have a son who doesn’t want anything from your estate,” Eloise pointed out.

“You’re right.” Mr. Bessler sighed, his eyes shut. “He doesn’t need it.”

His breath grew even and deep, and Eloise turned to tiptoe out of the room when his voice stopped her. “Maybe I’ll go see my son’s ranch, after all.”

Hope rose in Eloise’s breast. “That would be nice, Robert.”

The old man opened one eye. “I didn’t say I’d be nice, just that I’d go.”

Eloise smothered a grin. She was happy that the old man would have a chance to see his son, and if she was utterly truthful, she was looking forward to seeing Cory, too. He’d been more than she’d expected, somehow—gentler, more complicated, more wounded. Even now she found herself wondering about the big rancher, how he was handling all of this. Mr. Bessler shifted, seeking a more comfortable position.

“I’ll let him know,” she said.

“Now leave me alone,” he grunted. “I want to sleep.”

Chapter Three

The next morning, the house vibrated with rare excitement. Robert sat by the window, pretending not to watch for Cory’s truck. He scowled at Eloise as she rechecked his oxygen tanks, but when she turned away, she’d catch the scowl fading out of the corner of her eye.

Eloise felt cheerful and upbeat about this trip. It would be good to get away from the musty little house—a holiday from the ordinary. She’d never seen a ranch before, except for what she could glean from movies, and the prospect was both exciting and mildly daunting. She had packed some painting supplies so that she could make the most of her time there.

“I’m bringing your favorite shirts—the soft ones,” she told the old man as she tucked the last of the clothing into a suitcase. “I’m also packing your winter robe, just in case it gets chilly.”

She chatted away to her patient, getting little response, but each time she looked over at him, she’d catch the anticipation in his eyes, quickly veiled for her benefit. When Cory’s truck rumbled to a stop outside, Robert turned away from the window.

“Is he here?” Eloise asked.

“Looks like.”

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“It’s only a couple of hours away. You’re acting like we’re leaving for a month.”

“I only want to be prepared.” She straightened. “It’ll be fun, won’t it?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he attempted to wheel himself toward the bookshelf.

“Can I help you with something, Robert?”

He waved her off. “I have to put something in the suitcase.”

From the bookshelf, Mr. Bessler took the ornate urn that held his wife’s ashes, and with some effort, he tucked it into the open bag. Eloise didn’t attempt to help him. When it came to Ruth, Mr. Bessler didn’t like interference.

A knock on the door drew her attention and Eloise went to open it. Cory stood on the doorstep. He pulled his hat from his head, his warm gaze meeting hers, and gave her a nod.

“Morning, ma’am.”

She chuckled at his formal manners, a novelty she didn’t come across often in Billings. She instantly liked it. “Come on in.”

Behind her, she could hear her patient struggling to clear his throat.

“Hi, Mr. Bessler.” Cory lifted his hat slightly, then dropped it back on his head and bent to pick up their bags. “Can I take these out?”

Eloise nodded and Cory’s boots reverberated on the wooden floor as he headed out, his arms flexed under the weight of the luggage. She caught herself watching his muscular form as he strode back out to the truck. He was strong in a way she didn’t often see. This wasn’t muscle tone from working out at a gym—this was strength from hard, manual labor, and it looked different somehow, more natural. She tore her gaze away, her cheeks heating in embarrassment. Robert didn’t seem to notice, much to her relief.

It didn’t take long for their items to be stashed in the back of the pickup, and Eloise wheeled Robert out the side door and down the ramp. They settled the old man in the backseat of the four-door truck, his oxygen beside him. Cory then gave Eloise a hand up into the front seat before heading around to the driver’s side.

“Are you comfortable, Robert?” Eloise asked.

“It’ll do.”

Cory hopped up into the driver’s seat, the scent of his aftershave wafting through the cab. She knew he was a tall man, but proximity to him made him seem larger still. His broad hands slid over the steering wheel as he eased away from the curb, and he gave her a smile.

“I guess we’ll all get to know each other a little bit,” Cory said as he pulled out of the drive and into the street. “I think you’ll like it out there in Blaine County, sir.”

“You might as well call me Robert, too,” the old man sighed. “All these formal manners are agonizing.”

“Thanks. Have you always lived in town?” Cory tried again.

“All my life.”

“So you must know a lot of people.”

“I know them. I don’t like them, but I know them.”

Cory laughed. “You’re direct, I’ll give you that.”

Mr. Bessler heaved a dry laugh.

“You said you were an accountant,” Cory tried again.

“Sure was.”

“You must like working with numbers then.”

“I liked a steady paycheck. A married man has to provide.”

“So you didn’t like your job?”

“It was okay. I didn’t hate it. Can’t say I was passionate about taxes or anything, though.”

“So what did you like?” Cory glanced into the rearview mirror. “There must have been something.”

“I had a horse,” the old man said quietly. “I liked the horse.”

They fell into silence, and Eloise settled comfortably into the seat. They were talking, and she felt gratified. Maybe it wasn’t her business, but she was glad to see the old man connecting with his son somehow.

“What kind of horse did you have?” Cory asked.

“Look, no offense, but I’m tired. Talk to her for a bit.”

Cory and Eloise exchanged a look and Eloise smothered a smile. She knew her patient well enough to fully expect his bad humor, but she suspected his son wouldn’t find his cantankerous nature quite so charming.

“You seem in a hurry to get back,” Eloise commented.

He nodded. “Like I said before, calving is a busy time.”

“What happens?”

He eyed her uncertainly. “I get the feeling that you aren’t much of a country girl.”

Eloise shrugged. “I grew up in Billings and moved out here for this position with your father. This is about as rural as I’m used to.”

“I appreciate you coming along. You’re getting me out of a bind.”

“What sorts of injuries should I expect?”

“Sprains, dislocations, cuts and lacerations. Nothing we want to waste time on a hospital visit to get treated. I’ve got fifty-four ranch hands doing everything from cattle wrangling to maintenance and upkeep around the place.”

Soft snoring rumbled from the backseat, and Eloise turned to find Robert sound asleep, his bird-like chest rising and falling.

The fields, fenced by rusty barbed wire, slipped past the window. The highway shot straight through an expanse of fields, the vast landscape dwarfed only by the sky. Huge, boiling cumulus clouds rolled overhead, their shadows slipping silently over the rolling land.

“You said you have a partner at the ranch,” she said, changing the subject.

“Zack.” Cory nodded. “He’s a good friend. When my grandfather passed away, he left the ranch to me and two other cousins. I bought them out, and Zack and his wife, Nora, joined me in running the place. They’re my management team. He’s got a stake in it, of course, but the ranch is mine.” He paused for a moment. “Nora is going to be overjoyed to see you.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

Cory laughed, the sound deep and full. “No, because you’re single and of marriageable age. She’ll try to set us up, you can count on that.”

Eloise felt heat in her cheeks once more. Cory’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he put his attention back on the road.

“Just don’t take it personally,” he said, “and we should escape unscathed.”

Eloise had to admit that being set up with a handsome cowboy like Cory wasn’t exactly a hardship. She stole a glance in his direction. He tapped a rhythm on the top of the steering wheel, his expression relaxed.

“And what’s kept you single all these years?” Eloise asked.

Cory raised his eyebrows. He took a deep breath. “I haven’t been single this whole time. I was engaged once.”

Eloise eyed him curiously. She’d assumed he was the type who didn’t want to be tied down. She’d come across that kind one too many times in her life, and she found herself pleasantly surprised that Cory wasn’t one of that motley crew.

“What happened?”

“It didn’t work out.”

“Why not?” Eloise knew she was pressing, but he knew the worst about her relationship, so it only seemed fair.

“She left me at the altar.”

“Ouch.” Eloise winced. “Did she explain at all?”

“She left a letter back at the house. She said she couldn’t live the ranch life after all. She wanted to see what the city had to offer her, and I wasn’t that flexible. We wanted different things, it turned out.”

Eloise nodded. She could understand that well enough. Sometimes when a couple both wanted the same thing—like a baby—and it didn’t happen, the results could be equally disastrous.

Cory shrugged. “It’s not that easy to handle a ranching life. My fiancée grew up on a farm, so she was no stranger to hard work.”

“I guess she was no stranger to bad timing, either,” Eloise muttered.

Cory laughed. “It was better that she did it before the wedding, much as that hurt.”

“So what happened to her?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since.”

“When was that?”

“About five years ago.”

They drove in silence for some time, the flat expanse slipping past as the miles clicked by on the odometer.

“I guess we all have our painful pasts,” Eloise said quietly.

The window into Cory’s past had closed. Eloise watched him surreptitiously. His dark gaze moved over the landscape, his jaw tense.

Is he thinking about the woman who left him?

She wouldn’t blame him. When she was a teenager, she could eventually heal from a broken heart and move on with optimism for the future, but wedding vows had greater weight, and they took more with them when they tore free. Jesus knew what he was talking about when he said that a married couple became one flesh. They didn’t separate without a lot of pain and some deep scars.

In the backseat, her patient shifted, then shifted again.

“Robert, are you all right?” Eloise asked, turning.

Mr. Bessler’s eyes fluttered open. “A little sore. I’m okay.”

“Scale of one to ten?”

“Fourteen.”

“Cory, could we stop at the next rest area?” she asked. “It might help.”

He nodded. “For sure. There’s a diner coming up in about five minutes.”

“Will that work?” Eloise asked.

Mr. Bessler nodded, his lips pale. “Yes. Thank you.”

As Eloise took his pills out of her bag and cracked open a bottle of water, she hoped that this trip wouldn’t be too much for the old man. As much as he could benefit from the new scenery, change of any kind was exhausting, especially for a terminal patient.

Cory’s brow furrowed and he pressed a little more heavily on the gas pedal.

He cares.

That little fact alone eased some of her worry.

* * *

After a stop at the diner for lunch, they drove on for another hour. The truck sped over a gravel country road, dust billowing up behind them. Eloise settled back in the seat, listening to the upbeat jangle of a country tune. Cattle grazed on the swell of a hill, heads down, tails swishing. Over the foothills in the distance, a rainstorm left a gray, foggy smudge, but the sun shone brilliantly overhead where they drove.

“This is a beautiful area,” Eloise said.

“This is mine.” There was something in the rumble of his voice that drew her attention.

“Really?” She sat up straighter, her gaze moving over the field of green wheat out her window. “All of it?”

“Out your window is land that I lease out for crops. Out my side—” Cory jutted a thumb in the other direction “—is grazing land for my cattle. Beyond Milk River are some hunting grounds.”

“Gorgeous,” she breathed.

His tone was light as he said, “I might be a little biased, but I think this is the most gorgeous land in the country. There is something about the soil that keeps bringing me back home.”

“You really love living out here.”

“It’s more than loving a location,” Cory replied. “It’s this ranch. Sometimes a place just becomes a part of you when you aren’t looking.”

Eloise didn’t know how to answer, so she stayed quiet. She could sense the satisfaction in his voice when he talked about his land, his tone almost reverent. She was a city girl through and through, but cities changed constantly. New buildings went up, old buildings came down. While Billings held her memories from girlhood up to womanhood, it didn’t inspire the same deep attachment that Cory seemed to feel.

The last few miles slipped by, and Cory slowed as they approached a log arch with a hanging sign that read Stone Ranch. They turned in and followed a meandering drive that led up to a sheltering copse, leaves fluttering in the constant prairie breeze. Beyond the leafy blind sprawled the house, a barn and a paddock. The house was a log ranch style, a long porch sweeping along the front with a couple of rocking chairs sitting empty. The gray barn across the way was more modern, and the paddock where several glossy horses munched hay stretched out in front of the barn. The scene reminded Eloise of pastoral paintings, all serenity in the golden afternoon sunlight. Except for that modern barn—what was it about modernity that ruined a perfectly pastoral scene?

“Zack and Nora live in the manager’s house down that way,” Cory said, then chuckled. “Never mind. There they are.”

A man and woman emerged from the gray horse barn, both in jeans with cowboy hats pushed back on their heads. Nora wore a T-shirt with a band logo emblazoned across the front, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Zack smacked a pair of leather work gloves against his thigh, a puff of dust exploding from the material. When they saw the truck, Nora raised her hand in a wave.

“Welcome back, stranger,” Zack said with a grin as Cory got out of the truck.

Nora came up to Eloise’s door and gave her a friendly smile and introduced herself. “You must be Eloise.”

“Yes, that’s me,” she replied, returning the woman’s infectious smile. “You certainly live in a lovely area.”

“It’s definitely God’s country,” Nora said. “Thanks for coming to help out. No injuries this morning, thankfully, but it’s only a matter of time with the calving.”

“Can I give you a hand?” Cory asked, poking his head back into the open window of the vehicle.

“Oh, we can handle it,” Nora replied. “Zack needs to show you a weakening spot in the barn roof. I’ll help Eloise get Mr. Bessler settled.”

Cory raised his eyebrows at Eloise and she nodded, attempting to look more self-assured than she felt at the moment. “Go. You’re needed. We’ll be fine.”

Cory grinned. “I’ll be back soon.”

As the men walked in the direction of the barn, Eloise turned to her patient.

“This is Robert Bessler.”

Mr. Bessler smiled wanly in Nora’s direction. “Pleasure.”

“How are you feeling?” Eloise asked quietly. “How is the pain since I gave you your pills at the diner?”

“Six.”

“Do you want more meds now, or after we get inside?”

“Let’s get inside.” He covered his mouth with the oxygen mask and took a deep breath. “And get me out of this truck. I’m nauseated.”

Eloise grinned at his comforting bad humor and the two women worked together to get the old man into his wheelchair, and then pushed it toward the main house. Nora walked ahead and dropped a ramp over the stairs just before they reached them.

“This is handy,” Eloise commented.

“We’ve been wheelchair accessible ever since Grandpa got sick. Come on in. I’ve got some sandwiches in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Mr. Bessler muttered something.

“What’s that, handsome?” Nora asked, holding the door for them as they came into the cool foyer.

“I haven’t been called that in at least a decade,” he replied.

“I don’t believe it.” Nora chuckled. “Well, what can I feed you?”

Mr. Bessler shook his head. “Not hungry. She made me eat earlier.”

“A glass of iced tea?”

The old man shrugged.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” A few minutes later, after Mr. Bessler had taken his medication, they sat around a pine table, a large pitcher of iced tea between them. Nora sank into the chair opposite.

“So...” Nora fixed Eloise with a cheerful smile. “Are you single?”

Eloise laughed. “Cory warned me about you.”

“Did he, now? Sorry. I don’t imagine you’re a country girl, are you?”

Eloise shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I was born and raised in Billings and came out to Haggerston to work as a palliative care nurse.”

Nora’s eyebrows went up, then she glanced toward Mr. Bessler.

“Yes, I’m dying,” the old man grunted. “You’re allowed to talk about it.”

“Well, you never know. You might find out you love all this space.”

“It would be hard not to,” she admitted, glancing out the window.

“Do you ride horses?” Nora asked.

“No.” Eloise shook her head. “Cory mentioned teaching me how, but—”

“Take him up on that.” Nora shot her a grin. “He’s an excellent teacher, and there are women who would give their eye teeth for an offer like that from Cory Stone.”

There was something in the other woman’s enthusiasm that hinted at more than a simple riding lesson, and Eloise sipped her iced tea to avoid answering. It was flattering to be seen as a romantic option for the rugged cowboy, but Eloise wasn’t exactly “on the market” again after her divorce.

The side door banged and the sound of men’s voices mingled with the clomp of boots in the mudroom where the men took off their work apparel before coming into the kitchen.

“There they are.” Nora stood up and headed back to the kitchen counter. “Do you two want a sandwich?” she called.

Eloise turned to see Cory amble into the kitchen.

“Robert, can I get you something else?” Cory asked.

His father shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

Cory exchanged a look with Eloise and she shook her head ever so slightly. Accepting a sandwich from Nora, Cory slipped into the chair next to Eloise.

Eloise cast about for a subject of conversation. “This is an interesting old house.”

“My grandfather built it. I did some renovations when I took the place over, though.”

Eloise’s gaze roamed over the walnut floors, glowing from a recent polish. A rough-hewn stone fireplace dominated one side of the sitting room, the opening wide and deep, and couches surrounded it. The couches looked worn, as if they’d been used for decades, but the wear and tear only added to the charm, making her wonder about the family members who made their memories surrounding that hearth. The kitchen was large and spacious, dark cabinets combining with the walnut floors to bring a cozy feel without sacrificing space.

“A home says a lot about a person,” Eloise said. “So do his friends.”

“Oh no,” Cory groaned. “What did she say?”

Eloise grinned. “Not too much. She’s nice, though. I like her.”

A smile twitched at one corner of his lips, and she chuckled.

“You seem to be the most eligible bachelor in Blaine County,” Eloise offered.

“To hear Nora tell it.”

“And if you tell it?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to waste a woman’s time.”

Eloise knew that feeling all too well. Even though she’d known Cory only briefly, she suspected they’d understand each other perfectly. Flirting and dating might bring some excitement to her life, but she wasn’t looking for compliments and a dinner out. She was past the age of playing games.

“Or your own time,” she added.

“I suppose. I don’t want to get involved with someone just to break up later. It’s not worth the heartache.”

She nodded. “I feel the same way.”

“Is my dad doing okay?” he asked, lowering his voice.

The old man slumped in his chair, his eyelids drooping. Eloise put her hand over her patient’s cool fingers. “Are you all right, Robert?” she asked quietly.

“Getting tired,” he murmured.

“And the pain?”

“Two.”

“Perfect.” Eloise looked up at Nora. “Would you mind showing us Mr. Bessler’s bedroom? He could use a rest.”

“Oh, for sure.” Nora gave her husband’s hand a squeeze before heading toward the kitchen doorway. “Come right this way. I got your bedrooms ready this morning. I have Mr. Bessler in the front room—he can see the horses graze right out his window.”