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An Unlikely Rancher
Can she save the ranch—and keep his love?
Jenna Wood had her new start all planned out when she bought an ostrich ranch in New Mexico. But from day one, nothing is quite what she expected—especially her tenant, Flynn Sutton. Jenna’s daughter, Andee, adores Flynn and his sheepdog, Beezer, but Jenna’s not so sure. She feels a connection, but Flynn’s a pilot, just like her late husband, and his work brings up painful memories. Still, when someone in town seems to have a grudge against Jenna, Flynn is there to protect her and Andee. Together, they’ll find out who’s trying to intimidate Jenna, and why. And along the way, the three of them just might become a family...
Their eyes met, and she ventured a smile.
“I must admit, you have a nice way of making ordinary things special,” she said.
The red on his cheeks got ruddier. “Uh, ordinary things like having supper together in town? It’s pot roast Monday at the diner. Their cook makes the best pot roast in the West. We’ve all had a trying day, so it’s my treat. Say, seven o’clock?”
His offer surprised Jenna, but she only hesitated for a second. “Sounds terrific. I’m not sure how long my errands will take. How about if Andee and I meet you there?”
“It’s a da—” He stopped short of saying date. Jenna could tell Flynn knew it, and so did she.
Unwinding Andee’s arms, he chucked her under the chin and made good his escape, with his dog loping through the open screen door at his heels.
Jenna gave a start when Andee piped up to say, “We love Flynn, don’t we, Mommy?”
Dear Reader,
Parts of this story have percolated in my mind for quite a while. There’s an ostrich ranch off the highway between Tucson and Phoenix. A few years ago the ranch was in the news. Hot air balloons taking off from an empty field frightened the birds, and many were hurt when they broke down fences. I wanted to feature an ostrich ranch in a story, but I didn’t want them hurt. I decided to set my story in a neighboring state. I wanted my main characters to love animals. And because An Unlikely Rancher is a love story, I decided my ranch owner, who isn’t looking for love, falls in love accidentally. I hope Jenna Woods and her daughter Andee’s second chance at happiness with ex-military flyer Flynn Sutton is a story that touches your heart.
Sincerely,
I love hearing from readers. Contact me via Facebook or my website, korynna.com/RozFox.
An Unlikely Rancher
Roz Denny Fox
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ROZ DENNY FOX’s first book was published by Mills & Boon in 1990. She writes for various Mills & Boon lines and for special projects. Her books are published worldwide and in a number of languages. She’s also written articles as well as online serials for www.millsandboon.co.uk. Roz’s warm home-and-family-focused love stories have been nominated for various industry awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award, the Holt Medallion, the Golden Quill and others. Roz has been a member of the Romance Writers of America since 1987 and is currently a member of Tucson’s Saguaro Romance Writers, where she has received the Barbara Award for outstanding chapter service. She’s also a member of the Desert Rose RWA chapter in Phoenix, Midwest Fiction Writers of Minneapolis, San Angelo Texas Writers’ Club and Novelists, Inc. In 2013 Roz received her fifty-book pin from Mills & Boon. Readers can email her through Facebook or at rdfox@cox.net.
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Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Dear Reader
Title Page
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
JENNA WOOD SAT at her sister’s dinner table and draped a napkin across her lap. “I have news. Today I finalized buying the ostrich ranch in New Mexico I told you about last month. Movers will collect our things from storage tomorrow. Andee and I will leave at the end of the week. Salad, anyone?” She forced herself not to wince as she passed the bowl across the table to her brother-in-law, but finally set it down when he didn’t take it.
Jenna’s sister, Melody Carter, and her husband, Rob, both dropped the rolls they were buttering.
“You can’t be serious,” Rob, a JAG attorney stationed nearby at the Pentagon, sputtered through a laugh.
“I am. I know you guys thought it was a passing fancy.” Jenna picked up the salad dressing, bracing herself for the full onslaught of their reaction. “My funds were wired and I’ve received confirmation from the seller’s Realtor. I’m now the proud owner of 300 acres, 1,500 birds, a two-story home, plus a single-story, three-bedroom rental in a town near my ranch. Our ranch,” she stressed, smiling down at her serious-faced six-year-old daughter.
Rob frowned at Jenna. “Look, Mel and I know it’s been rough on you to have the Air Force investigating Andrew’s collision with that Navy flyer. Thorough investigations take time. Especially when the planes had to be fished out of the ocean. I can get your contract voided on the basis of your being a grieving widow.”
Jenna stiffened. “I don’t want out of the contract. I want a clean start for Andee and me before her school starts.” She glanced again at the girl, who’d been too quiet and withdrawn since her dad’s accident.
Melody reached across the table and squeezed Jenna’s hand. “I assumed we’d talked you out of this folly. You’ve always lived on a military base. What do you know about ranching?”
“I’ll learn, Mel.”
Rob finally slid the salad bowl over. He gestured with the tongs. “Mel’s right. I hate to say it, Jenna, but you aren’t thinking straight.”
“Mom thinks it’s a good idea. It’s why she stayed on after the funeral, so I could visit a local ostrich ranch. Get a sense of what I’ve got ahead of me.” Jenna poured the salad dressing.
“How reliable is Mom or Dad? They moved lock, stock and barrel to Costa Rica weeks after Dad retired,” Melody argued.
“That’s exactly right. That’s why they’re reliable in this—they’re proof that you can make a dramatic new start at any age. They researched and chose a place where their money will last. And they’re the ones who recommended this place in New Mexico.”
She stopped to study them, acknowledging their concern. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—listen to her own self-doubt. “Look, I can’t thank you guys enough for helping move us off the Florida base and for letting us stay here temporarily. But even here—”
Jenna had to break off, catch her breath, before she said slowly, “Everywhere I turn I see men and women in uniform. We’ve been here ten months.” She lowered her voice, looking hesitantly at Andee. “I think the commission is bent on proving pilot error. They’re discounting Andrew’s countless missions in war zones.” Jenna idly split her roll, barely murmuring, “You know about the reports saying he and the Navy pilot argued. Should that destroy his career?”
“War can mess with a man’s head,” Rob said.
Melody nodded. “Yes, we all saw a marked change in Andrew after his last tour in Afghanistan. You said he refused to go for a physical. Whether or not the commission finds him at fault, you need family now, Jenna.”
She tensed. No one knew how strained her marriage had been at the end.
“Andee, honey, I forgot your milk. Will you go to the kitchen and bring the carton from the fridge?”
Jenna waited until after she’d gone to put a finger to her lips.
Oblivious, Rob continued, “Some chest thumping goes with being a fighter pilot. And rumors always circulate after a non-combat accident. They fade away, so it’s no reason to uproot Andee. Let the commission finish its work.”
Jenna added a dollop of dressing to Andee’s salad. “He was three short years from retirement, Rob. We discussed leaving the East Coast. I’ve always wanted land where I could have animals and plant a garden. Mel, you know how much I loved the Army base in Germany when we were kids and Mom raised chickens.”
Rob ate his salad as Andee scampered back with the milk. “Ostriches aren’t chickens,” he said. “They’re big, powerful birds. They kick and bite.”
After pouring Andee’s milk, Jenna set the carton aside. “Ostriches only act out if they’re frightened, according to the American Ostrich Association website. They’re curious creatures who like shiny objects. The people I bought from advised against wearing jewelry when I work with them. Plus, the couple who owned the farm I toured in Georgia has raised birds for ten years and they’re doing really well.”
“Even so, New Mexico is still the Wild West,” Rob said.
“Please be happy for us,” Jenna begged, suddenly blinking away tears.
Pretending to fuss with Andee’s hair, she gently cupped the girl’s ears and said quietly, “Mel...if we stay here, there are bound to be negative comments about Andrew.” Jenna dropped a kiss on the child’s forehead and smiled because Andee had clearly taken an interest in their conversation.
Melody and her husband exchanged guilty glances.
“Of course.” Melody hastily passed Jenna the meat platter. “But you call us the minute you get there. And if... Well...our door is always open if you want to return.”
* * *
FLYNN SUTTON WATCHED his newest customer jockey a four-passenger Cessna Skylark into the hangar he’d just rented out. It was Flynn’s third rental since he’d finished clearing the runways of the old airpark he’d bought while serving in the Air Force.
That had been before he’d been shot up and landed in the military hospital with a new knee and shrapnel wounds in his hip and thigh.
The cloudless blue sky and shimmering heat of his native New Mexico helped to cleanse the stench of war and dull the painful loss of his best friend.
Chip Talbot had flown the search-and-rescue mission that bitterly cold afternoon when their chopper had been shot down in Kandahar province. Only dumb luck had let Flynn crawl out of the wreckage alive.
He counted himself lucky again that he’d invested in this airpark over the twelve years he’d served Uncle Sam. It gave him the fallback he’d needed when his career with the Air Force was over.
In the beginning it had been his intention to stay in for twenty, retire with a good pension, come here and teach flying in his golden years. He’d had to cut those plans short—or move them up, depending on one’s view of his current situation.
Disability pay covered the cost of his renting the house in town. He’d have money enough to keep his dream alive, providing he filled his hangars and lowered his blood pressure so he could pass his next physical.
Imperative if he hoped to teach flying.
But maybe he was asking for too much. Unlike Chip, he had his life and a future.
Shading his eyes, Flynn tossed a wave to the pilot of a red-and-white, single-engine Piper Cub taxiing to the caliche runway from another stall.
Travis Hines, the twenty-year-old son of a local land developer, was a bit of a grandstander. Or maybe the kid just made him feel old at thirty-three.
Still watching the plane, Flynn idly wiped his greasy hands on a rag. He grimaced as the Piper lifted off in a wobble of wings and a full-throated growl.
Dropping his mirrored sunglasses over his eyes, Flynn dismissed the show-off and limped into his makeshift office. He tucked his client’s check into the bank deposit bag for when he and his dog went home at lunch.
* * *
JENNA TIMED THEIR arrival in Deming, New Mexico, to coincide with the moving van hauling their worldly possessions. Over her sister’s continued grumbling, Jenna had traded her compact car for a Jeep Grand Cherokee. The purchase had seriously depleted what was left of her savings, but as she pulled up outside the realty office, she felt a renewal of hope.
Hope had been missing from her life for longer than she had admitted to anyone.
The office looked like so many other buildings she’d seen in the virtual tour. It was flat-roofed, beige stucco and blended with the sandy landscape.
Taking Andee’s hand, Jenna stepped inside.
The only person in the room was an older man seated at a messy desk. Without hesitation, she introduced herself to him.
“I see, Mrs. Wood. Welcome. I’m Bud Rhodes. Oscar left you an envelope along with the house keys. He said he included notes about his ostrich operation.” Bud pawed through a pile on his desk, found the envelope and handed it to her across the counter.
She stared at it for a moment. “I assumed Mr. Martin would walk me through everything,” she said slowly.
“Sorry. I thought you knew he’d moved to Hawaii.” The Realtor laughed at the oversight. “Oscar employed a local man by the name of Don Winkleman to help with the birds. I reckon he’s been handling things since Oscar skedaddled.”
“I see. I hope his notes are detailed...” She opened the envelope but couldn’t focus on all the paperwork she was seeing. “This business is all new to me. Everything here is new to me.”
“Well, now, we’ve got a right, nice little town. What you see here is our commercial district. You and the little lady,” he said, smiling down at Andee, “need to visit our museum. It dates back to the 1916 raid by Pancho Villa. We’ve even got artifacts from one of the original Harvey Houses that catered to transcontinental railway travelers. It’s open now, if you’d like to take a tour.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.” Jenna glanced at her watch. “I’m to meet our moving van at the house right about now.”
She was exhausted from the long drive and the heat. And admittedly unsettled by the news that Oscar Martin was gone and hadn’t told her he’d be leaving and she’d be plunged into ranching straightaway. Thank heaven, he’d left her with someone to help.
“No problem. I’ll mark where you’re going on this map. Your property isn’t too far off the main highway. It’s about four miles out of town.”
“And there’s a rental home?” she suddenly thought to ask. If Oscar Martin hadn’t told her he was leaving, what else hadn’t he told her? “Here in town, correct? And it’s occupied?”
“Yes.”
Well, that was a relief, anyway.
“Belonged to Oscar’s great-aunt,” Bud continued. “When she passed on, he elected to keep it for added income. The house sits about here.” He pointed to a square on the map. “The address is on the deeds in your packet.” He drew an X approximately two blocks into the square. “It’s currently rented by a nice young fella who lived here as a boy. He returned a few months ago to open a business.”
Bud stood and went to the window to peer out.
“I ’spect you just missed him. Before you came in, I saw his pickup parked outside the bank.”
Relieved to hear that her renter was nice, Jenna thanked the Realtor for his help and guided Andee out.
“Mommy, I’m hot,” Andee complained as Jenna unlocked the SUV.
It was a good thing Jenna had stocked a cooler with ice and water at the motel that morning. She opened a bottle and passed it to the girl. “We need to remember to drink more, sweetie. It’s much drier here.”
“Why?”
“I suppose because there’s no ocean nearby.”
Andee accepted that answer and buckled herself into her kid seat in the back.
After a brief check of the map, Jenna set out.
It took her less than fifteen minutes to find the rutted lane leading to the ranch.
Her first glimpse of the rambling two-story house was a letdown. It wasn’t as white as it had looked in the photos. The porch didn’t run all the way across the front. And the evergreens, maybe spruce, which she had thought shaded the house, were brown. Covered in dust, she guessed, squinting against the hot wind blowing the dust through her open window.
She shut the window and climbed out of the SUV, taking in the tufts of grass in the yard as she opened Andee’s door. She couldn’t really call the grass a lawn.
She had wanted so much for this life-changing move to New Mexico to be exactly what she and her daughter needed. Her family had told her that she didn’t know what she was doing. And she’d blithely argued that she’d done her research.
Nothing in her research had prepared her for what she was seeing now. And maybe that was why the previous owner had left town on the quiet.
There was more “lawn” evident in some of the pens that ran parallel to the highway, which was separated from her property by a strip of land and a perimeter road Jenna hoped didn’t get much traffic.
Groups of gangly birds were huddled under canvas-topped awnings. Since the dry breeze took her breath away, Jenna didn’t blame the ostriches for seeking the least little bit of shade. If Oscar Martin had a manager, there was no sign of him—or any living human being, for that matter.
She helped Andee down and they went into the house, where a second wave of fatigue swept over Jenna. It was only marginally cooler inside, and yet the inspector she’d hired through the Realtor had said the house had swamp coolers. Of course, she knew swamp coolers weren’t air conditioners and they worked better if a couple of windows were cracked open. It was at least reassuring that she could hear the sound of a motor running somewhere.
She had promised to call Melody the minute they arrived. But knowing that her sister and Rob insisted she was making a bad decision—and worried they were right—she decided to wait until she was settled in.
She glanced out the living room window and saw the moving van lumbering toward the house.
Good. A reprieve.
After telling the movers where she wanted her furniture and boxes to go, she and Andee went to unload the SUV. On her second trip, while her daughter remained inside unpacking her stuffed animals, the drone of an airplane directly overhead made Jenna pause. Unable to shade her eyes because she had both arms filled with clothes on hangers, she squinted to scan the sky.
She was surprised to see a small red-and-white plane flying incredibly low. So low, her heart skipped a beat. It swooped over the ostrich pens and for a moment blocked the sun, casting a hulking shadow.
Tearing her eyes from the plane, Jenna saw spindly-legged birds bolt from under the canopies and run awkwardly to the far end of the enclosure. The plane’s shadow followed, causing birds to bump into fences and one another. Then the plane made a right turn and headed for a low rise Jenna thought probably marked the edge of her property.
She held her breath and waited for the sound of a crash. Nothing.
“Mom,” Andee called from the doorway.
“I’ll be there in a minute, honey.”
At the fence, she had no idea what she should do to settle the agitated flock. Thankfully, before she could come up with a plan, they calmed themselves and wandered back to the shade.
Since she hadn’t heard a boom, Jenna assumed the plane must have landed. She had no idea she’d bought property near an airport. That very notion unnerved her.
“Mommy, are the ostriches okay?” Andee asked, appearing at her side.
“I think so.” Turning to go into the house, Jenna muttered, “That plane shouldn’t have flown so low.”
She watched her daughter carefully after that close encounter with the small plane.
She knew neighbors on base had discussed Andrew’s plane crash around their kids. And even though Andrew had been gone too much to be a hands-on dad, their little girl had always tagged after him when he was home. And he’d taken her to see his plane. Flying had been his life. He’d even bought her picture books of planes.
But since Andrew had come and gone so often, Jenna was aware that Andee hadn’t yet fully comprehend his death.
Up to now they’d only casually mentioned that Andrew was in heaven. But Andee was a bright child and Jenna’s mom had said there would be an appropriate opening to discuss what death meant.
This wasn’t the time, though, Jenna decided.
To distract them both, she toured Andee through the rest of the four-bedroom, two-bath house while two of the movers set up their beds.
The wood floors in the living room needed waxing, Jenna noted. And hot as it was, Jenna couldn’t imagine ever needing the beautiful old fireplace at one end of the room. But when she expressed that thought, the youngest of the three movers laughed.
“Nights in the desert can be brutally cold. I grew up in New Mexico,” he added as if to prove his point.
The kitchen was outdated but clean, its cupboards painted a sea-foam green. Jenna imagined she’d like them better in white. But she also knew it’d take time to put her stamp on the place.
After the movers left, she dug out the linens to make up Andee’s bed.
She wished she’d thought to note the call letters painted on the underside of that plane. Even if there was an airport in the vicinity, the plane had flown dangerously low. If the pilot had violated some local flight ordinance, she should report the incident.
The plane could belong to a local rancher. She knew it wasn’t uncommon for ranch owners to fly private aircraft. If that was the case, perhaps he—or she—would respond to a neighborly request to not swoop so low over her pens.
Martin’s ranch manager might shed some light on the matter. Where was he? He obviously didn’t live on-site. Later she would sit and read Martin’s notes. It would suit her if the helper only worked part-time. She hadn’t factored in the cost of hired help.
“There, Andee, your bedroom looks put together. Would you like to help me make up my bed?”
“Mommy, I wish there wasn’t a bathroom between our bedrooms. You’re too far away,” she said as she scooped up Cubby Bear.
“Honey, you’ll be fine sleeping in here. We’ll leave both connecting doors open. You’ll have your animals and dolls to keep you company.”
Andee’s shoulders slumped.
Jenna worried about how clingy she’d become since the funeral. “Tell you what. I need to phone Auntie Melody to let her know we arrived. Would you like to talk to her a minute?”
“No, it’s okay.” Andee wrapped her arms tightly around her much-loved bear and trailed her mother into her bedroom.
Jenna made her bed, then sat on it and punched her sister’s speed-dial number on her cell phone. She kept the call brief, putting a rosy spin on everything. She might have broken down if she’d heard the hint of an “I told you so.”
“Our next step,” she told Andee after ending the call, “is lining kitchen cabinets with the pretty contact paper I brought. Do you want to help peel the backing off after I measure and cut?”