The Rancher Next Door

The smile now back on Ava’s face was more than worth the overwhelming task before them.

* * *

Brady couldn’t decide if he was more coated in dust or annoyance.

“I caught him.” His longtime best friend and only hired hand, Max Ringgold, looped Nugget’s reins around the hitching post outside the barn, then slapped at the dirt clinging to Brady’s shirtsleeves and back. “He came barreling through here like a Thoroughbred. I’d have been worried if I hadn’t seen you hobbling after him a minute later.” Max’s brow pinched in mock concern. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to take shelter during a dust storm?”

“Funny.” Brady stepped away from the good-natured beating his friend doled out. “I’ll remember that next time.” As if he’d had a lot of choices out in the middle of the pasture, without a horse or even a saddle blanket to toss over his head. It figured that he left his bandanna in the house today of all days.

“Too bad you weren’t in the barn like I was when it blew through.” Max’s smile broadened. He was clearly finding way too much humor in his boss’s appearance.

Brady squinted off at the now calm pastures, then aimed a pointed look at his friend. “Too bad someone didn’t warn their boss.”

“What, you think I’m in the barn watching the Weather Channel?” Max adjusted the black hat on his head, still grinning. “That dust storm spiraled up in the fields from nowhere and left just as quickly.”

Max was right. It’d been unavoidable. All part of the unknowns of working a ranch—and another reason that just confirmed his instincts to keep Ava in the house, where it was safe. Away from unpredictable weather and brush fires and even more unpredictable animals—like Nugget, who had thrown him off at the first ruffle of wind. Blasted creature had gone running to the safety of the barn—leaving Brady to walk after him, gritting dirt between his teeth.

“I’m surprised you’re getting anything done out here anyway, with the new nanny inside.” Max winked. “I’m sure she’s capable, but may I say, she’s a far cry from Ms. Mary.”

A sprig of jealousy burst into full bloom. He knew his friend was just teasing, but for some reason, it rubbed him wrong. He forced a smile to look friendly, but his tone was all boss. “The new nanny is off-limits.” For both of them. For multiple reasons.

But especially for Max.

Max sidestepped as Nugget reached over to nibble the grass near his boots. “You know me, man. I’m just a sucker for a pretty face. I don’t act on it.”

Brady snorted. “You have before.” He ticked off names on his finger. “Brenda. Lucy. Michelle.”

Max shook his head, hands up in surrender. “They weren’t fellow employees.” He shaded his eyes against the sun and looked over at the main house, as if trying to get a glimpse inside. “She’s just temporary, though, right?”

Brady’s jaw tightened and Max laughed. “I’m kidding, boss. Sorry, I guess I wouldn’t be in a joking mood if I looked like you, either.” He gave Brady’s shoulder another hearty pat, and more dirt puffed from his sleeve. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of the dust bunny here.” He gestured to Nugget.

“You might want to brush off his tack, too.” Brady strode toward the house, his tone leaving no question about who was in charge. He loved Max like a brother, but sometimes he wondered if hiring his best friend was a smart move. Too often they blurred the line between respect and fun, and Brady had a hard time sharpening it back into focus. He had to admit, though, if Max had been teasing about any other girl from church or town, he couldn’t have cared less. Something about Caley was different, and that made him as skittish as Nugget had been in the storm.

Hopefully things were going better in the house than they had been for him outside. The girls wouldn’t be expecting him until later this evening for supper, but he couldn’t keep doing his chores for the remainder of the afternoon until he brushed his teeth and changed shirts.

Brady strode into the house, the back door banging shut behind him harder than he meant to let it. Ava and Caley looked up with a start from the kitchen counter, where a mass of something that might be cookie dough clung to a greased sheet in tiny, uneven mounds. Ava had flour smeared on her cheeks, and a speckle of dough clung to the apron Caley had donned over her top and jeans. They both looked at him, then at their own mess, and laughed.

“I didn’t know it was flouring outside, too.” Caley clapped her hands together and a puff of white powder flurried into the air.

Brady couldn’t stay frustrated about his current condition, or even Max—not with the three of them looking the way they all did. He cracked a smile and brushed at his jeans. Dirt showered onto the floor. “Something like that.”

“Hey, Caley just swept that.” Ava’s indignant defense lost its merit when she was covered in flour. She handed her dad the broom leaning against the kitchen wall.

Caley snatched it back before Brady could figure out how to get to his room to change without tracking more dirt everywhere. “No worries. We should have waited until after the cookies were done, anyway. This was a bigger mess than I thought.”

“Those are cookies?” Brady raised an eyebrow. Who’d have thought? His stomach rumbled with protest. It might turn out that Mary and Caley were opposites in more ways than he’d expected.

Caley snorted. “Supposed to be. We’ll see when they get out of the oven. It’s a recipe my grandmother made for me my entire childhood, but...I think I forgot something.” She poked at one of the mounds with a spoon—it didn’t budge. She wrinkled her nose. “Or maybe we just should start over.”

“I think I’ll take a dirt storm over a flour storm any day.” Brady shook his head with a smile. Funny how just being around Caley brightened his mood. He and Max were going to be in more trouble than he originally thought. “I’m going to go change.” And hopefully remind himself while he was gone of all the reasons why he couldn’t think of the woman slinging dough in his kitchen as anything other than a temporary employee.

“You don’t want to stay and help?” Ava’s hopeful expression cast a shadow on his brightening mood. Brady sighed. Here he went, about to disappoint his daughter once again. He hated keeping score, but he couldn’t help but feel as if the board would read Brady: 0, Caley: 2. Or was she up to 3 by now? Either way, he was far behind in the game of good graces. He still smarted from Ava’s comment in her room earlier that morning.

But the ranch wouldn’t run itself, and Ava should be old enough to understand that by now. If he stayed in the kitchen and made cookies all afternoon, who would feed the animals? Who would fix the broken barbed-wire fence in the south pasture? Who would clean the rest of the stalls he’d started that morning and check on the pregnant mare? Not to mention the stack of invoices he needed to mail for the hay he’d sold last week. Max helped out, but the ranch was more than enough work for two men.

In fact, if he thought about it long enough, he’d go insane from the pressure. He was stuck and couldn’t please everyone. He had to support them, and as much as he’d like to play with Ava all day, he just couldn’t. That’s what Mary was for—and now, Caley. One day, he’d get caught up and be more available. One day.

Brady stepped gingerly toward the kitchen door leading into the living room, aware of his dusty tracks. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve got a lot more to do outside. That storm just caught me off guard, is all. Need to change and get back to it.” He tried to overlook Ava’s crestfallen expression and Caley’s pursed lips, and lifted his tone in an effort to lighten the suddenly somber mood. “I’ll see you for supper, though.”

They ignored him, except for Ava’s bottom lip poking farther out.

He attempted a joke. “Hopefully supper turns out better than those cookies.”

Two sets of eyes simultaneously flicked his direction and narrowed. Not the time for humor, obviously.

“If you can’t stay in here, then can I come help you outside?” Ava’s timid voice held zero hope, as if she already knew the answer. And she did.

Brady shook his head slowly. “You know the rules. Your chores are in the house, not with the animals. It’s too dangerous.”

“But, Dad—” Ava broke off as Caley nudged her in the side. She sighed. “Yes, sir.”

He was proud of her for remembering her manners, but couldn’t find the words to say so. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Brady slipped upstairs without another comment, wondering how on earth he’d even be able to eat dinner that night with the solid rock of guilt taking up his entire stomach.

He wrenched his dirty clothes into the hamper and changed into a fresh shirt, then brushed his teeth with more aggression than necessary. He wasn’t sure what was more unsettlingly, the fact that he couldn’t seem to do anything right in his daughter’s eyes...

Or how much he’d enjoyed seeing Caley in his kitchen after a long day of work.

Chapter Four

She’d missed the smell of the bay.

Caley breathed in the familiar scent of motor oil, exhaust and lemon cleaner. It must have been a bay day on the chores schedule, by the looks of the squeaky-clean concrete beneath her boots. She didn’t particularly miss pushing a mop over the floor or scrubbing down trucks, but she missed the activity. The excitement. The adrenaline rush that flowed through her veins with the knowledge that any minute, the alarm could chime and they’d be off to save lives.

Hopefully the job at the Broken Bend Fire Department would eventually work out. Because as fun as it’d been babysitting Ava that day, Caley’s heart remained in the action of firefighting. Saving lives. Making a difference.

Making atonement.

Muffled voices and a sharp tapping sounded from the far corner, where a group of blue-uniformed firemen stocked the back of the ambulance. She hated to interrupt if they were counting supplies, but she needed to find Captain O’Donnell to ask about her volunteer gear. If she was going to start doing ride-outs and earning her way into the station, she needed to get set up ASAP.

Caley lifted one hand in a wave to the older man who broke from the group and strode toward her with a curious expression. There was the captain now, judging by the embroidery on his blue polo. “Good evenin’. Can we help you, ma’am?”

The other firemen glanced up with interest, but went back to their stocking after a firm glance from the captain. She held out her hand. “I’m Caley Foster. I’ve come for my volunteer pager and gear.”

The gray-bearded man offered a friendly smile and a firm handshake. “That’s right. Chief Talbot said you’d be by this week. Come on in.” He led the way past the recently washed fire trucks and held the station door open for her. “Nice to meet you.”

Caley smiled her thanks, taking an appreciative note of his sincerity. As a female firefighter, she’d been treated in numerous ways over the years—dealing with everything from jealousy to discrimination to sexual harassment. The captain’s respectful handshake and the way he met her eyes when he talked showed he considered her a capable equal, while his opening the door for her proved he was a gentleman at heart. Exactly the kind of captain she’d like to work for.

Captain picked up a pager from the cluttered desk to the right of the kitchen area, pressed a button and then nodded with satisfaction at the responding beep. “You’re all set.” He handed it to her, along with a BBFD T-shirt and a sheaf of paperwork. “Just sign these forms and we’ll get them filed. I’m sure you’ve seen them before, based on Chief’s report. This ain’t your first rodeo, is it?” He winked beneath silver eyebrows, thicker than his beard.

She liked Captain. “You could say that.” Caley grabbed a pen from the coffee mug on the corner, took a seat at the table and began scribbling her signature in the designated areas. “What about bunker gear?”

“We have extra sets up here that stay in the bay lockers. You’re welcome to those whenever you come meet the trucks.” Captain shrugged, leaning forward to brace his arms on the chair across from her. “Or just swing by and grab them before you meet us in the field. Either way. We’ve had issues in the past about volunteers not returning their gear after quitting, so Chief decided that volunteer gear should stay on-site.”

“Understandable.” Caley scribbled her name on the last document and stacked them neatly before handing them over to Captain. “I’m renting a place only about fifteen miles from here, so I can make it pretty quick in an emergency.”

Captain glanced at the address that had already been typed into her paperwork. “That’s next door to the Double C ranch, isn’t it? McCollough’s place.”

“You know him?”

“Everyone knows McCollough, after the tragedy he went through few years back. He’s a good ol’ boy.” Captain slid Caley’s paperwork inside a green folder. “I see him at church from time to time. He and that kid of his—they’ve had some tough breaks.”

“I’m actually babysitting his daughter for now. They had an emergency come up with their nanny—temporarily, of course.” Caley held up both hands in an effort to clarify and grinned. “I’m sure you know I’m hoping to get hired on here.”

“We’d love to have you. It’s rare getting a volunteer with as much experience as you’ve had.” Captain shrugged, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Not my call, but you’d have my vote if it was.”

“I appreciate it.” Caley hesitated, grateful for the confidence Captain had in her, but unsure how to far to push. Still, something he said lingered on the fringes of her brain and demanded details. “You mentioned how Brady and Ava have been through a lot—what exactly happened with Ava’s mom?” She held her breath, hoping a few pieces of the puzzle that was all things Brady McCollough would finally slide into place. She hated to seem nosy, but no one was volunteering the information, and if she wanted to make a difference—for Ava’s sake, of course—then it could only help her to know what they’d overcome.

Or rather, what they were still attempting to overcome.

“It was an accident.” Captain looked toward the bay with a heavy sigh, and Caley suddenly felt as if she was being dismissed. “But that’s a story for McCollough to tell.”

“I see. Well, thank you. I won’t keep you.” She quickly stood and held out her hand for a goodbye shake, mentally kicking herself for coming across as a gossiping, meddling newcomer. She might be a born-and-bred native of Broken Bend, but she’d been gone so long she’d likely crossed the line from family to foreigner long ago. “Thanks for getting me set up. You’ll definitely be seeing me around.” First time that pager buzzed, she’d be on it.

That is, if she wasn’t on babysitting duty. Caley rolled in her lower lip. Balancing her time between making volunteer runs, visiting Nonie and watching Ava might not be as easy as she’d thought.

“I hope so, Ms. Foster.” Captain motioned her to walk out the bay door ahead of him. “And a word to the wise—if you truly want to get hired on here, don’t just show up for the fun stuff.”

Meaning fires. “Got it. Thanks for the tip. I’ll be well-rounded, I promise.” She crossed the bay toward her car, T-shirt tucked under her arm.

“Ms. Foster?”

She turned at the sound of Captain’s deep voice and arched an eyebrow, waiting for more inside advice. “Yes, sir?”

“If I were you, I’d not press McCollough. It’s not a story he likes to tell.”

* * *

Brady adjusted the pillow under his head, shifting onto his side as he waited for sleep to come. But for the first time in months, he found himself wide-awake at the end of the day. It certainly wasn’t due to lack of hard work—after the dust storm, he’d gone right back to it, despite the sullen glances Ava shot his way. No, he had a feeling his inability to sleep had a lot more to do with the feisty little woman who’d botched not only two but three dozen cookies. Whatever secret recipe her Nonie used to make was apparently destined to remain a secret.

Brady flipped onto his back and sighed, unable to erase the mental image of Caley with flour smeared on her cheeks and dotting her forearms, winking as she managed to accomplish the one thing he never could with Ava these days—making her smile.

And she’d be back in his kitchen doing it all again the next day.

The realization brought equal parts joy and panic. Dismissing the idea of sleep, Brady threw on a pair of Wranglers and a T-shirt, slid into his boots and quietly slipped outside. Maybe fresh air and a quick walk would clear his head, remind him of all the reasons why even though it felt right having Caley in his home, it was wrong.

He’d failed at being a husband once and was making pretty good time on messing up fatherhood, too. He didn’t dare bring another woman into his life—even if Caley was sweet. Wholesome. Sincere. She baked cookies and took care of her grandmother in the nursing home. She was the very picture of a rancher’s wife. Good with his daughter. Smiled a lot.

Would probably look cute in boots.

The night breeze stirred Brady’s hair, and he wished he’d brought his hat. He realized with a jolt that he’d headed toward Caley’s property, and now a soft glow from her back window lit the night like a beacon. He slowed his pace, unsure why he’d come that way and berating his subconscious for being a traitor. He started to turn around, not trusting himself to walk any closer. Something about Caley called to him, and if he ever answered, it’d be catastrophic for them all.

“I found the Little Dipper.”

Brady nearly stumbled over a gopher hole as Caley’s gentle voice broke the silence of the night. “What? Where?” He looked around to find the person attached to the voice but saw no one. Had he officially lost it? He knew hiring Caley had been a bad idea. Now he was conjuring her voice out of the prairie.

A muffled giggle sounded from above. “Up here.”

He drew his gaze to the sound. The roof. She waved from her reclined position on a blanket, sprawled out directly under the stars. A wiggling black blob he could only assume was Scooter lay nestled on the quilt by her side. “Caley? What are you doing up there?” He felt the urge to cup his hand over his eyes as he looked up, despite the sun not being out. How on earth did she get that dog up there?

She rose to a sitting position, hair tousled, making her look all the cuter. “Come on up. The view is great.”

Brady shook his head. She must be crazy. Ava was home in bed, and he needed to get back to the house. Not to mention that he didn’t love heights in the first place, and that ladder looked as if it was possibly older than the rental house.

Then she reached over and patted the shingles beside her in invitation, and he’d scaled three rungs before he even realized he was moving.

Drawing a breath, Brady settled a respectful distance away on the other side of the blanket and pulled his knees up to his chest for balance. “Sort of dangerous up here, isn’t it?” He didn’t look down, but focused on Caley’s eyes glittering in the moonlight. Talk about dangerous.

She absently ran a hand over Scooter’s back, smoothing his fur. “You sound like my dad.”

Definitely not his intention. Brady cleared his throat, unsure how to backpedal. “I just didn’t expect to see you up here, that’s all.” Women he knew didn’t sit on roofs. Then again, he didn’t know a whole lot of women anymore. Didn’t seem fair to compare everyone to Jessica, but that’s all he had to go on. Not for the first time, he wished he’d let his play-it-safe wife stay that way. Instead, he’d been so taken aback by her request to ride that he’d eagerly agreed, despite knowing better. She’d finally shown some effort toward his interests—toward their marriage—and he wasn’t about to curb it.

And look what happened.

Brady scooted a little farther away from the edge of the roof, wishing Caley would do the same. Instead, she tilted her head back as she studied the sky, her short blond hair skimming down her back.

“The view is great.” She gestured to the heavens. “It was one of the things I’d missed about country life.”

He felt himself being pulled in, like a moth to a lit candle. Against his will. Fascinated. Yet destined to get burned. “What else did you miss?”

She pulled in her lower lip, and took her time answering. “Peace and quiet. And space. Living in big cities is exciting, but it’s constant noise, constant action. Like there’s always something else you should be doing.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It gets exhausting.”

“I can only imagine.” He’d only ever known ranch life, and that was fine with him. Cities had too much concrete. A man needed earth under his boots, not man-made rock. “So why’d you move to a city?”

She sucked in a hard breath, and repositioned her jeans-clad legs underneath her. “Long story.” She offered a sideways smile, and he forced himself to hold her gaze despite the magnetism tipping him off balance. “I’m here for Nonie now, and that’s all that matters.”

Closed door on that topic. Probably for the best. He didn’t need to carry her secrets, even if some deep-rooted part of him wanted to. “Have you seen your grandmother yet?” Brady plucked a leaf from the shingles beside him and began to shred it, eager for something to do with his hands before he shoved another proverbial foot in his mouth.

“Not yet. I spent the weekend getting settled and hitting the grocery store.” She exhaled slowly, turning her eyes back to the inky sky. “I was going to go tomorrow after work.” Her voice trailed off, as if she’d almost forgotten he was there. “I need to, anyway.”

“You could take Ava, if you wanted.” The words flew out before he could process them, but the idea made sense—not to mention it seemed to combat the anxiety in her expression. It didn’t make sense. If she moved to Broken Bend to take care of her beloved grandmother, then why hadn’t she run over there the moment she crossed the county line?

Maybe that was part of the secret she carried.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Hope filled the hollow spots in her voice, and Brady suddenly hoped she didn’t ask him to rope the moon. Because in that moment, he’d have gladly headed out to the barn for his lasso.

His leaf was gone, shredded to pieces in his lap. He brushed off his jeans. “Not at all. It’d be good for her. And speaking of Ava, I need to get back in case she wakes up and finds me gone.”

Caley stood as he did, and he offered his hand for assistance. She either ignored it or didn’t see it, because she nimbly turned backward and scurried halfway down the ladder like a squirrel on tree bark. She clapped her hands twice, and Scooter obediently came to the edge of the rungs. She reached up for him, tucked him against her side and climbed down a few more feet until she could safely drop him to the grass.

That was something he didn’t see every day. Brady followed at a slower pace, not breathing regularly until her feet were on solid ground—and all too aware that the dog was less afraid of heights than he.

“Does she usually wake up in the middle of the night?” Caley tucked her hair behind her ears, eyes full of compassion.

He centered himself back on earth before he answered. “Not usually, but in the last few years since her mom’s death, she gets the occasional nightmare.” More like night terror, the way Ava woke up, crying and pounding on his bedroom door. She hadn’t had one in months.

“Has she seen a counselor about it?” Caley turned, the moonshine turning her hair nearly white.

“She saw one in the year after, and the counselor assured me her grief was typical and would go through stages.” Brady ran his hand over his own hair, really wishing for his hat now. Anything to try to guard himself from Caley’s inquisitive stare. Her eyes darted between his, and he could almost see the wheels turning. “She’s fine, I promise. She’s come a long way. Sometimes you just can’t control where your brain takes your dreams.” He knew that firsthand. He’d relived his childhood trauma of being locked in that fiery basement way too many times to count. And no matter how many times he revisited that terrible night, he always felt as if he was forgetting something. That unrecalled memory bothered him more than it should, and he had no idea why. Whatever it was must be worth blocking out. Too bad he couldn’t forget the entire ordeal.