Rancher At Risk

The screeching metal and shattering glass had only added sound effects to a bad dream.

Then why did they still echo inside his head?

Lianne?

He crawled out of bed, grabbed his jeans and slid them on, all the while trying to identify the source and location of the racket that wasn’t in his head at all. And that had just ended as abruptly as if someone had pulled a plug.

The noise had come from below.

He took the stairs in two leaps. Not a sound down here, and dark as pitch except for the band of light streaming from an open door halfway down the hall to the kitchen. The continuing silence made the previous noises all the more ominous.

He hurried toward the light from the office Caleb had shown him that afternoon and then skidded to a halt in the doorway, expecting splinters from the polished wooden floor to pierce his bare soles. One glance told him serious damage had been done.

Every door in the wall of custom-built cabinets hung wide open. A drawer of each file cabinet gaped. The rest of the room looked like a field back home after a winter storm, except instead of snow, every horizontal surface had been covered with clipboards, plastic filing trays and folders spilling their guts.

Over everything drifted the scent of freshly brewed coffee from a table in one corner, the only uncluttered space in the room.

In a far corner, his new housemate stood with her back to him near one of the file cabinets. She flung another folder the few feet over to the desk behind her without looking. It slid from the edge to join the rest of them on the floor.

What the—?

Maybe he hadn’t woken up yet. He scrubbed his face with his bare hand, attempting to wipe away the last traces of drowsiness.

When he took his hand from his face, he found Lianne watching him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

Biting his tongue, he fought to come up with a question that didn’t include any swear words. “What are you doing up?”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, either. I’ve got a busy schedule, so I thought I would get in here and rearrange everything the way I want it. While I’ve still got the opportunity. Before I get to work.”

She was babbling and, for the first time, had spoken to him naturally. Nerves had made her forget her defenses. Probably best not to point that out.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“Some peace and quiet.”

“Oh.” She grimaced. “I forgot to close the door, didn’t I?”

“You forgot more than that.” He glanced at the center of the room. The sound of plastic file trays and a half dozen other items crashing to the floor in front of the desk had played right into the crumpling metal and breaking glass of his dream.

She followed his gaze. “I guess I got a little involved.”

And a lot reckless.

Her cheeks pinker than the T-shirt she was wearing, she stooped and began scooping papers together.

He dropped to one knee and grabbed her wrist. When she looked up at him, her brows lowered, he gestured toward the floor. “Watch it. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re worried about paper cuts?”

“No. This.” From under a flurry of paper, he lifted the jagged pieces of glass and wood.

She took the broken frame from his hand and turned it over. A trio of smiling faces looked up at them. Caleb. His wife, Tess. Their daughter, Nate.

“Oh, no. Caleb just had this photo taken.” Lianne stared down, her face stricken. Broken glass had left a deep scratch across the surface.

“It’s only a picture,” he muttered. “Easy enough to replace.”

She ignored him.

He took the frame from her and set it on the desk, then leaned over to start picking up files from the floor.

“Not those,” she said.

He looked at her.

“They’re in order. Organized chaos, I know. But that’s the way I work.”

“Right. How about I pick up what belongs on the desk and you take care of the rest?”

When he’d finished that, he rose and looked over at the coffeemaker.

“Want some?” she asked. “Help yourself.”

“Might as well. I don’t guess I’ll be going back to sleep tonight.” He looked at the pink-tinged sky through the office window and corrected himself. “This morning.”

She picked up an empty mug from the desk. “Ranchers have to get up early, don’t they?”

“Not this early,” he said.

She flushed again but held out the mug. Once he’d filled it, she took a seat behind the desk. The power position.

“Maybe sharing this house isn’t the best idea.” Her gesture swept the room. “Obviously, I’m not the quietest person. I’d hate to interfere with your sleep again.”

“I’m staying.” As if he had a choice. “Once you’re done fixing things up here, there won’t be anything else to bother me. Unless you get hit in the middle of the night with an idea to rearrange heavy furniture.”

“Very funny.”

He sat on the small couch near the coffeemaker and stretched out his legs, crossing them at his bare ankles. Might as well make use of the time, too. Show Caleb he’d done his homework. “Tell me about the school.”

She took a long deep breath followed by a sip of coffee. “Our overall mission is to provide a home for troubled boys. A residential school. They’ll live here, attend classes and group therapy sessions, and have one-on-one meetings, as well.”

He raised his brows. “Then you’re talking behavioral counselors and teachers as well as camp counselors?”

“They’ll be called aides, but they’ll act as counselors like at a camp, yes. And only a small staff of teachers, since the older boys will take some of their classes online. We’ll also have a live-in registered nurse.”

“Sounds like a big operation.”

“It will be. We’re starting small and plan to increase enrollment in future.” It was the most she’d said to him since their first meeting. She spoke slowly and clearly, ensuring he didn’t miss a thing, as if she wanted to emphasize the importance of what she was saying. Or as if she recalled the conclusion he’d jumped to when they’d first met—that she was drunk.

At times, he still found her hard to understand, though even when he lost a few words along the way, he got the message. Considering her voice and her niece being deaf, he reckoned Lianne had some hearing loss, too.

“As part of the noncredit courses,” she continued, “we’ll teach life skills, rolled into lessons that fit with living on a ranch. Cookouts, hikes and nature walks, riding lessons. In fact, that part of the curriculum will run along the lines of a dude ranch. But don’t tell Caleb’s daughter that.”

“Why not? When I met Nate at the ranch in Montana, she was all about horses.”

“Oh, she still is. She’s just not a fan of dudes.” She gave a soft, throaty chuckle. “And she’s not alone. When I first suggested Caleb turn this into a dude ranch, you should have heard the reactions of the people around here. It could have been a wise investment. But with the school, we’ve got so many more possibilities to make a difference.” Her eyes shone.

When she wasn’t glaring at him or counting off points on her fingers, she was a nice-looking woman.

What did that matter? He tightened his hand around the coffee mug. “And you’re in charge of all this.”

The light in her eyes dimmed. Her defenses had snapped back into place.

“I am.” She said it flatly, as if expecting a challenge.

He’d give her one. “What makes you the right candidate for this job?”

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll have trained counselors to work with the boys. My role is strictly to take care of the behind-the-scenes operation.”

“That’s what I meant.”

She stared him down. “I’ve got a B.A. in business administration and eight years’ experience working with newly established companies.”

He nodded. “Not in this area of the country, I take it, since you’ve made a move and brought everything with you.”

“My sister, Kayla, lives here. She’s married to one of the local ranchers. I’m from Chicago.”

A city girl, then. Probably knew nothing about live critters except maybe for cats. “A boys’ school doesn’t exactly follow along the lines of one of your big-city corporations.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you saying?”

“For Caleb’s sake, I hope you know something about dealing with kids.” He gripped the mug again.

“I told you, my job is behind the scenes. And from here I do it all. Budgets, schedules, spreadsheets, insurance—” she gestured around the office again “—and whatever admin work needs to be done. And I have other experience that makes me qualified to deal with the boys. I’m sure they’ll be much easier to work with than some men.” She eyed him steadily.

No trouble catching any of that. Irritation had made her bite off every word.

“By the way,” she said in the same clipped tones, “since you’re determined to share the house, then we’ll be taking turns with the meals.” Over the rim of her mug, her eyes gleamed.

She thought she’d one-upped him.

He’d go her one better—though he knew the reaction he would get. “I don’t cook.” As she opened her mouth to protest, he added, “I’ll take my meals with the ranch hands in the bunkhouse.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Right,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“Right. Glad we’ve got that settled. As for the rest—” he looked around the room, then forced a smile “—I’m not a fan of organized chaos. You do your job, I’ll do mine. And we’ll stay out of each other’s way.”

Chapter Four

“The supply sheds still need to get stocked,” Caleb said as he and Ryan stood in the horse barn, after their return from inspecting the western boundary. “The larger one first, since we’ll start off grazing the herd near there.”

Ryan nodded and made a mental note. “I’ll add it to the list.” He had spent the morning with Tony and a couple of the wranglers, hauling around all the new tack and equipment the boss had bought to outfit the barn. Close enough to the house that he could be ready to head out on his second tour with Caleb as soon as he was needed.

And far enough from the house to keep him out of range of Lianne.

Grimacing, his boss stretched. It was easy enough to see that another long afternoon in the saddle had him tired and sore.

“Getting to be an old man,” Caleb said.

Ryan laughed.

“Aw, you don’t know old,” said Tony from his stool beside the mare he was grooming. By the look of him, he was pushing eighty.

“Well, I do know I’m ready to head for home.” Caleb looked at Ryan. “You remember we’re having dinner tomorrow?”

“It’s number one on my list.”

“Good. Tess and Nate are looking forward to seeing you again—”

Lianne had said the same about them.

“—and the ladies are eager to meet you.”

“Are they?” How much had Caleb told them of his situation?

“Yeah.” Caleb looked over at Tony. “Roselynn—Tess’s mom—is a real Georgia peach. Roselynn’s sister...” He grinned. “Let’s just call Ellamae a chili pepper.”

“She hot tempered?”

“No, she just likes to spice thing up.”

Tony chuckled. “My kinda woman. I gotta meet her.”

“I’m sure you will one of these days. She’s bound to show up here to check things out.”

After a couple of other reminders for Ryan’s mental list, Caleb said his farewells. From the barn doorway, Ryan watched him head in the direction of the corral, where he had left his truck.

The back door of the ranch house opened, and Lianne stepped onto the porch. She called Caleb’s name, then hurried across the yard to him, her blond hair streaming in the sun.

She moved like a thoroughbred. He’d noticed those long slim racehorse legs of hers right away. Well, after he’d gotten past the angry glare in her blue eyes.

Tony had come up to stand beside him. He gave an appreciative whistle. “Whoo. Speaking of women. She’s a sight to behold, ain’t she?”

Ryan shrugged. He’d looked at women, even all through his marriage—hell, he was a red-blooded male. But he hadn’t often bothered to look twice.

He did want to work well with the men here. “She’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” Tony chuckled. “Boy, you must need glasses more than I do. I can’t hardly see the print in the newspaper anymore, but my long distance never lets me down. Even from here, I can tell she’s easy on the eyes.”

He had to agree.

They watched her leave Caleb beside the corral and make her way back to the house.

“Mmm-mmm,” Tony murmured. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but I’m looking forward to that. Maybe I’ll go chat her up sometime.” His grin turned his face into a mass of wrinkles. “Like while you’re off having your Sunday dinner with the folks.”

“She’s going, too.”

Tony’s face fell. “Well, dang. Now I’m disappointed Caleb didn’t invite me along.”

You can take my place.

A sentence Ryan surely wished he could say aloud.

Supper at the Whistlestop Inn might be all in a night’s pleasure for the boss, but it was going to be work for him. A command performance at the least, if not a test to see how he could handle himself. So far Caleb hadn’t put him in as manager. He hadn’t said anything about his job.

When it came to aging, neither Caleb nor Tony knew the true meaning of the word.

He was the one getting old, fast.

* * *

RYAN MADE SHORT work of his shower and didn’t waste any time getting dressed. Back in his room, halfway through straightening his cuffs, he stilled. It had been over a year since he’d dressed for a night out.

Only a week later, he had worn a plain long-sleeved white shirt like this one...with his dark suit....

One quick tug popped the snaps running down his chest. He pulled his arms free of the sleeves and shoved the shirt into his duffel bag. Whatever T-shirt he grabbed from the drawer would have to do.

At the dresser, he couldn’t keep from looking at the picture frame pressed neatly against the beveled edge of the mirror. Safe. Secure. Still facedown.

He ran his comb through his damp hair, tucked the comb into his jeans pocket and left the bedroom. Maybe left the bad memories behind long enough to face the uncomfortable evening waiting ahead.

Halfway down the stairs, he jerked to a halt.

Lianne sat on the couch in the living room, her blond hair trailing down to the cell phone in her hands, her thumbs a blur as they flew over the keys. They’d gotten through the day without seeing each other, except to haggle over the shower.

She’d dressed up for the occasion. Flat red sandals, a brightly flowered skirt and a red blouse that was all fluffy and soft with lace edging.

The kind of thing Jan used to like.

Would the damn memories ever stop?

He couldn’t speak, could only clear his throat, trying to get the woman’s attention. Trying to get them moving and out of there so he could focus on the road and the drive into town and forget everything else.

She didn’t look up or, as far as he could see, miss a beat from her texting. Ignoring him. No surprise.

He continued to the bottom of the stairs, wishing the quiet would last. Knowing with her around he didn’t have a chance.

She slid her phone into a small red bag and stood. “All set?” he asked.

He held open the front door and then followed her out to the yard.

“We can go in my car,” she announced. She stopped and looked back at him, her hand on the driver’s door of the Camry.

He shook his head. “I’ll drive.”

“I have a license, you know.”

“I’m sure you do.” He jerked his thumb toward his truck. “I need to gas up.” As he turned away, he tried to lighten the statement. “Since I don’t know where anything is, how about you ride shotgun.”

“What?”

After a deep breath, he turned back. “Ride shotgun,” he repeated. “It means—”

“I know what it means.”

And she hated the idea. This was one heck of a spot Caleb had put him in....

He’d put himself in.

He winced. “Listen, I don’t like the situation any more than you do. But there’s no getting around it now. Unless you want to take Caleb up on his suggestion to stay at the Whistlestop.” She lowered her head slightly to stare at him, reminding him of a headstrong mare he’d once known. “Okay, then. We’ll be sharing quarters. And we can agree to disagree, if that’s what you want. But things might run a whole lot smoother if we didn’t argue every time we opened our mouths.”

“I wasn’t arguing with you,” she snapped.

His turn. He stared her down.

“I didn’t mean to yell.” Now she kept her voice so soft and low, he could barely make out the words. “But I wasn’t arguing. I just couldn’t see what you said.”

He frowned.

Her face froze. Slowly, her eyes widened. “I don’t believe it. You don’t know, do you?” She shook her head in wonder. “You haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Figured what out?”

“I’m deaf.”

He opened his mouth and snapped his jaw closed again.

She stared at him, her eyes glinting in triumph the way they had when she had thought she’d one-upped him over taking turns with the meals.

Before he could respond, she opened the passenger door and climbed into the truck. He shook his head. Though he’d suspected she might have some hearing loss, it had never crossed his mind that she was deaf.

But she was right. He’d had enough clues to figure things out. She had jumped when he had walked up to help her unload her car. She hadn’t heard that gigantic crash in the office. And she had stared at Caleb the entire time he had talked to her yesterday.

Sometimes she even gave him her attention when he spoke.

Through the rear window of the cab, he could see her waiting, seat belt in place over her shoulder. She hadn’t wanted to ride in the truck, and now it looked as if nothing would get her out of it.

When he started the engine with a roar, habit had him reaching toward the dashboard. He froze, considered, then went ahead and turned the radio on. He always listened to the sports station.

A second later she reached out, too. Unlike him, she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she hit the scanner till whatever number she’d searched for popped up. A hard-rock station, judging by the screech coming out of the speakers. Nothing could irritate him more.

He was wrong.

She wasn’t finished.

She cranked up the volume till his ears rang and pushed the bass level to the max. He’d swear the danged windshield shivered. Clamping his jaw shut again, he rolled down his side window.

He fought not to look over at her. Why should he, when he already knew what he’d see? But to prove a point to himself for a change, he gave in and glanced across the cab.

Sure enough. Just what he’d expected. More sparkles in those big blue eyes and a wide smile on her pink mouth.

Again she thought she’d scored a mark on him.

Obviously, their situation meant only fun and games to her.

Let her play.

As he’d told her the other night, they both had jobs to do. And worrying about her didn’t make it onto any of his lists.

* * *

ELLAMAE STOOD IN the middle of the kitchen at the Whistlestop Inn and put her hands on her hips. The minute dinner was done, she and her sister, Roselynn, had had the good sense to shoo their guests and Nate out to the backyard.

Now the rest of them could get down to business.

“Ryan seems like a good man,” she stated, checking faces to make sure no one disagreed with her judgment.

“He is a good man,” Tess said.

Roselynn paused with the refrigerator door half-open. “Poor boy, he’s had a bad time of it.”

“Yeah,” Ellamae said thoughtfully. “And he’s due for a change.”

She and the other two gals looked at the only man in the room.

Caleb held his hands up as if to ward them all off. “You’ll get no argument from me, ladies. My point in bringing him down here is to give him a chance to pull himself together again. Whether he can do that or not, only time will tell.”

“Time is just what he needs,” Tess agreed.

“Being in a new environment will help,” Roselynn said.

He nodded. “That’s the whole idea.”

“I can’t imagine what he’s going through.” Tess rested her head against Caleb’s shoulder.

“Not something I’d even want to consider.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

His jaw had hardened and his eyes had gone tight. Ellamae frowned, knowing what thoughts must’ve run through his head. Caleb had gone through hard times and come out a better man for it.

His ranch foreman would do the same, with luck—and a little help from Caleb’s family.

When Tess and Caleb left the kitchen laden down with trays of mugs and the coffeepot, Ellamae glanced at her sister.

Roselynn looked back, her forehead wrinkled in concern. “He’s upset over the whole situation, El, and who can blame him? I told him he did the right thing bringing Ryan here.”

“Agreed,” Ellamae said. “All along, it sounded like the boy was a powder keg sitting up in Montana, just waiting for a match to light his fuse. But I’ve got a feeling the distractions around here are going to take him right out of himself.”

“I hope so. Although I don’t see much difference between one ranch and another.”

“It’s not the job that’s going to keep him—and us—busy.”

“Oh, no.” Roselynn shook her head. “Ellamae, he’s still grieving.”

“I didn’t say we’d get busy immediately.”

“You can’t possibly be thinking of getting up to anything.”

She gripped the damp dishcloth she’d just used to clean the counter. “For crying out loud, woman. It’s not me. Rose, sometimes, I swear you walk around with blinders on. You saw Lianne all through supper. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t see the sparks from her flying across the table?”

“How do you figure that? She didn’t say a word to him.”

“I rest my case.” She sighed. Sometimes Rose needed to be approached from a different angle. “Haven’t we said all along Lianne’s a wonderful girl?”

“Of course we have. And I want her to be as happy as Tess.” Roselynn’s face brightened. “What about Kayla and Sam’s foreman? You know Jack’s always been interested in her. And they get together whenever she comes to visit.”

She waved the idea away. “He’s a nice man but not good enough for Lianne.”

“Well, I don’t know....” Roselynn picked up the loaded dessert tray. “Ryan’s just arrived in town. He hasn’t even settled down yet.”

“He won’t get the chance to settle down.” She laughed and tossed the dishcloth into the sink. “Trust me—” And why wouldn’t anyone trust her, since she always knew what was what about everything? “—we’ll be taking things nice and easy on this one. Give those two a little time on their own out at the ranch, and Lianne will have that boy well and truly riled up.”

* * *

“WE’RE HAVING PECAN PIE,” Nate said, spinning a couple of napkin-wrapped forks on the table. “Aunt El’s best!”

Lianne smiled. Caleb’s wife, Tess, was on the quiet side, while their preteen daughter was exactly the opposite. Nate reminded Lianne of herself at that age—a bit of a tomboy and always willing to take charge.

As guests, she and Ryan had been sent outside with Nate to sit at one of the picnic tables scattered across the Whistlestop’s backyard. The girl hadn’t stopped talking since they had left the house. A good thing, since Lianne wasn’t sure she wanted to be left alone with Ryan.

“Gram’s bringing the pie.” Nate looked at him. “Aunt El wouldn’t let me carry your piece because she said I’d snitch some of your pecans. But I wouldn’t do that. Not the first time, anyhow.”

All through dinner, Lianne had managed to keep up with the conversations—except when they involved much input from Nate. When she was excited, which was often, she talked right over others. Her exuberance, combined with how fast she spoke, made lipreading next to impossible.