The Rancher Next Door

“Vince wanted to be the top student in our department. He was upset when he could not best me on exams and labs.”

Okay. “And that’s it?”

“Obviously, you’ve never had anyone continually competing with you. It grates on a person.”

She studied him. “You think that’s why Vince Owen bought a ranch so close to yours, don’t you?”

Trevor clenched his fists in frustration. “It’s not just this ranch. He dogs me all the time. I was asked to be a speaker on a ranching seminar last year. He found out and unbeknownst to me, got on the program, too. He found out what kinds of cattle I was breeding, started breeding that type, too. Bought a herd of heifers out from under me. Bought that land on the other side of you—the Circle Y—out from under me. I had offered the asking price to the previous owner, when he was ready to sell. Next thing I know he has accepted an offer from an intermediary for ten percent more. When I heard it, I had a sinking feeling who the new owner might be, but I didn’t know for sure until Vince Owen walked into the feed store yesterday morning.”

She glanced sideways at him. “Wow. No wonder you’re annoyed.”

Trevor dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t. I knew right off he wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted to have as a friend.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t use you to get to me,” Trevor warned.

“To use me, he’d have to get me to give him something. I have no intention of doing that. Now or ever,” Rebecca said flatly. “I do want to thank you, though, for helping me go get Blue Mist this morning.”

“No problem. I haven’t been around alpacas since I was in college. I had forgotten how beautiful they are.”

Interesting he would say that, Rebecca thought. It mirrored her feelings exactly.

As if realizing she was being talked about, Blue Mist ambled toward them.

The fawn-colored animal stood at almost five feet. With her gentle demeanor, long, sloping neck, sturdy giraffe-shaped body and dense, soft and fluffy wool coat, she lent a pastoral quality to The Primrose. Her cute oblong face and intelligent dark eyes only added to her appeal. Rebecca stroked her wool.

“How much do you know about shearing?” she asked Trevor.

He grinned. “I haven’t tried it on my cattle.”

“I’m going to have to do that once I get the entire herd on the property. It has to be done before it gets too hot.”

He rubbed Blue Mist behind the ears. “You shear them once a year?”

Rebecca nodded. “In the spring.”

Trevor dropped his hand as Blue Mist moved away once again. “One question. How did an alpaca with light brown wool get the name Blue Mist?”

Rebecca had been wondering if and when Trevor would ask that. “She was born on a foggy morning, and when the owners first saw her, she was rising up out of a blue mist.”

“Ah.”

“It’s a good name, I think. Prophetic.”

“You mean romantic,” he teased.

Rebecca couldn’t afford to be thought of as anything less than business-minded. “I mean it spoke to me when I heard it. And when I met her, saw how gentle she was, and found out she was already with cria, I knew she was the start of my herd.”

“Speaking of which…you and I need to talk about the fence around your pastures.”

“Why?” Rebecca braced for news that would cost her more than she’d already spent. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked in trepidation.

“The wood is breaking down in places.”

She cocked her head. “You had your cattle in there.”

His lips twitched. “Circumstances are different now. We’re going to have my thousand-pound steers on my side of that fence, and your one-hundred-pound alpacas on the other.”

“Are you saying your cattle are going to bother my alpacas?”

His hazel eyes glimmered seriously. “Not under normal circumstances, but we have to be prepared for the unusual.”

She wished she could say he was joking. “Such as?”

“Predators getting in the pasture with your alpacas.”

She would have laughed at the statistical absurdity of the statement had it not been for his warning expression. “Are you trying to give me a hard time?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that even a stray cat or dog could spook your alpacas, and if they get spooked and start running and upset my cattle, we could have a stampede on our hands.”

So it was back to the alpacas and cattle don’t mix theory of ranching. An old wives’ tale if she’d ever heard one. She planted her hands on her hips. “I think you’re exaggerating.”

He let his gaze drift slowly over her before returning to her face. He leaned down so they were practically nose to nose. “And I think you need mesh fence on the inside of the split rail borders, for safety’s sake.”

She dropped her hands and stepped back. “I can’t afford to do that right now, Trevor.”

He shrugged, as unconcerned with the financial details of the situation as she was obsessed. “Then I’ll help you out.”

His matter-of-fact offer sounded like a mixture of pity and charity. If she accepted either, word would get out, and she would never have the other ranchers’ respect.

Rebecca shook her head, promising, “I’ll get to it as soon as I can, but until then we’re just going to have to make do.”

Silence ticked out between them. “You sure that’s a chance you want to take?” he asked eventually.

What choice did she have? She was on such a tight budget as it was, at least for the next month or so, the slightest catastrophe could catapult her into bankruptcy. Once she’d attracted outside investors, though, her situation would ease quickly.

Gulping around the anxiety rising up within her, she tried to smooth things over while still stubbornly holding her ground. “Look, Trevor, the rest of the herd won’t be here for another ten days or so. As soon as I get past the Open House I’m having for potential investors, a week from Sunday,” and get past the balloon payment that is due on my operating loan, “I’ll take care of the fence. I promise.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to continue debating her, but when he finally spoke it was only to ask, “Where are you going to house your herd at night?”

“In the stalls in the barn. Which reminds me. I’ve really got to get cleaning if I want Blue Mist and that cria she’s carrying to have somewhere to sleep tonight.”

Trevor took the hint, and left to tend to his own herd.

Three hours later, Rebecca had scrubbed down the central cement corridor and two of the ten wooden-sided stalls. She was filthy from head to toe, and bone-tired to boot. Deciding to check on Blue Mist, she walked out to the pasture, and stopped in her tracks at what she saw.

Chapter Four

“Blue Mist doesn’t appear to be in labor,” Rebecca told veterinarian Tyler McCabe over the phone, minutes later. Struggling to recall everything she had read on the subject in preparation, and wishing her many books and articles— which were still on the moving truck due to be delivered any time now—were already in her possession, Rebecca continued describing the behavior of her prized alpaca. “She’s pacing, but not rolling around in the pasture. What concerns me more than the humming sound she’s making is the way she’s drooling, how tense she is. The way she’s stomping her feet and grinding her teeth.”

“Her behavior is probably due to the fact she’s been separated from the herd and placed in a new environment. But I’d like to take a look at her tonight anyway. I’ll run by as soon as I finish up office hours here. Probably around seven or seven-thirty if that’s okay.”

“That’d be great. Thank you, Tyler.”

“No problem. And let me know if anything changes.”

“I will.” Rebecca cut the connection on her cell phone and dialed again. She got the breeder, Helen McNamara, on the first try, and spoke with her, too. Helen suggested several ways to improve the situation, and offered her help. Forgetting her own timetable for getting her ranch up and running, Rebecca took Helen up on all of them this time.

Their plans set, the two women said goodbye.

Wishing she had listened to Helen’s advice sooner, Rebecca pocketed her cell phone. She turned when she heard the sounds of wheels on gravel.

To her disappointment, it wasn’t the moving truck she was expecting. It was the two people she least wanted to see at that moment.

She waited while her father’s Suburban made its way up the drive to the house. “Mom. Dad.” Rebecca nodded at Meg and Luke as they emerged from the vehicle.

Her mom was dressed in a light cotton dress and sweater, perfect for the warm spring weather, her dad a knit shirt, and slacks. They looked fit and trim. Regular visits to the salon kept the gray out of Meg’s red hair, but Luke’s sandy-blond hair was threaded with silver these days.

“We came by to see the ranch and see if you wanted to go to dinner with us,” Meg said.

“Thanks for the invitation, but it’s not a good time. I’m pretty busy.”

“So we see.” Luke looked past her disheveled appearance, toward the pasture. “That your first alpaca?” he asked, already heading toward the aging split rail fence.

As they neared, Blue Mist backed up and hummed and stomped even louder.

“Is something wrong with her?” Meg asked in concern.

“We think it’s just homesickness, the fact she was separated from the herd. Tyler McCabe’s coming out to check her this evening. The rest of the herd is going to be delivered tomorrow afternoon. She’ll probably calm down when she sees the rest of her ‘family.’ In the meantime, it’s been suggested that I go ahead and get her settled in a stall with food and water, so…”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Meg asked.

Rebecca snatched the leather lead from the hook next to the gate, where she’d left it, and shook her head.

Talking softly, the way she’d been taught when she’d taken a seminar on the care and feeding of alpacas in Europe the previous year, Rebecca attached the lead to Blue Mist’s halter and led her toward the barn. The animal relaxed almost immediately when she entered the six-by-ten confine with the high wooden walls. She settled onto the recently scrubbed cement floor with a sigh and “kushed” or lay down on her side. Rebecca removed the lead, then talked to her a little more. When she was satisfied Blue Mist was settled, Rebecca backed out of the stall and closed the gate.

Rebecca turned, to see her parents, watching. “Good job with that,” her dad said, looking impressed.

Meg nodded in agreement. “I had no idea you were this good with farm animals.”

“Even so, you think I’m crazy, undertaking this.” Rebecca knew from the look on her father’s face that his opinion hadn’t changed in the least. Meg’s probably hadn’t, either.

Luke glanced at the interior of the barn. It hadn’t been used to house animals for thirty years.

Meg walked out into the warm spring evening. The scent of flowers filled the air. Until now, she had kept silent on the subject, leaving the “heavy lifting” to Luke. Rebecca sensed that was about to change.

“We’re so glad to have you back in Laramie again, Rebecca, and we applaud your desire to be independent and run your own business, but we’d be lying if we said we weren’t worried about what you’re trying to do here.”

Luke nodded. “I’ve done some research on alpacas.”

“Then you know that compared to most types of livestock, they are very gentle and easy to raise.”

“I also know what they cost. And I’m guessing you paid more for Blue Mist than for your brand-new pickup truck.”

Rebecca didn’t deny that was the case. “I’ll make the money back and more. And I’ll show you how I’m going to do that when I have my Open House the Sunday after next.”

“All we’re saying is that maybe you should slow down,” Luke continued. “Take on a few animals, see how that goes before you invest every penny you have in this endeavor.”

“You could start your own travel agency,” Meg chimed in. “With your experience…you’ve been so many places. You would be great at it. You could still live on The Primrose. Have one or two alpacas for pets. You just wouldn’t have to…”

“Labor like a farm hand?” Rebecca guessed where this conversation was going.

“Exactly,” Luke said.

Rebecca was saved having to reply to that suggestion by another vehicle moving up the gravel lane that served as her driveway. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to show the movers where to put my boxes.”

Rebecca lifted the cross bar on the swinging wooden doors and opened up the detached barn-style garage that would soon be turned into the farm office. She greeted the driver and his assistant and indicated where she wanted the boxes stacked. The two men had just gotten started when a third vehicle drove up the lane.

“When it rains it pours,” Rebecca mumbled, not all that sorry Trevor McCabe had taken this moment to drop by, too. She could use whatever distraction her neighbor provided, and then some.

Trevor drove past the movers and parked next to her parents’ vehicle. Rebecca watched as he strode toward her and her parents. He said hello to everyone then grinned at her disheveled state. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” Trevor drawled.

Rebecca noted he also looked a little worse for wear, as if he’d spent the day working, too. “Then that makes two of us.”

“I stopped by to see if you wanted to borrow my pressure washer to clean out the barn,” Trevor said. “I could show you how to use it, if you’ve never handled one.”

Aware her parents were hanging on every word, Rebecca said, “I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

“Want me to go and get it for you now?” Trevor asked. “That way you’ll have it when you need it.”

“I’ll ride over with you, if you don’t mind,” Luke said. “I’ve never seen your ranch.”

Trevor’s surprise faded as quickly as it had appeared on his face. “Sure.”

Rebecca stepped between the two men. “Smooth, Dad. But you can stop trying to set up Trevor and I. He’s already told me in no uncertain terms that he has absolutely no interest in dating me.”

TO TREVOR’S RELIEF, Luke didn’t even try to deny his supposed matchmaking before heading off to the Wind Creek with him. “Is that true?” Luke demanded as Trevor turned the vehicle around and headed toward the rural two-lane highway.

“Rebecca misunderstood why I was talking to you yesterday morning.” Trevor eased back out onto the road.

“Did you tell her I asked you to talk her out of ranching?” Luke studied the feed corn growing in the field to their right.

“Nope,” Trevor said as he turned into his own drive.

“Thanks. She wouldn’t appreciate the behind-the-scenes interference.”

He stopped to get the mail out of his box. “No kidding.”

“I know you think I’m wrong for trying to change her mind about this.”

Trevor shrugged and continued driving. “She’s a grown woman.”

“Who is still capable of making a mistake.”

Trevor parked in front of the barn and cut the engine. “Maybe it should be hers to make. Look, Dr. Carrigan, I know you mean well. But Rebecca has a right to live her life any way she pleases.”

Luke hit the release on his safety belt and pushed from the vehicle. “Even if it costs her six years of savings?”

Trevor led the way into the state-of-the-art facility. It smelled of disinfectant and spring air. “This venture of hers is not going to do that. Ranch land around here is only going up in value. Alpacas, while expensive, are a much sought after commodity, not just in Texas, but in the entire United States. There’s a ban on importation. She’s going to have to breed wisely to get the maximum value from her investment, but even if she doesn’t, it’s unlikely she will lose money, given the demand for the animals.” He retrieved the pressure washer out of the tack room and carried it to his pickup.

Luke lounged against the pickup’s gate. “That could all change if demand declines.”

“True, but since it takes eleven months to produce a single alpaca, and alpaca wool is wanted world over, it won’t happen any time soon.”

Luke stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “I heard what happened at the feed store with Vince Owen.”

Trevor shut the gate. “Then you also know there were no takers for the bet he tried to make about Rebecca.”

Luke exhaled. “Does she know?”

“No, and everybody there agreed she shouldn’t. It would only hurt her feelings. Make interaction with him all that much harder. And since Vince owns the ranch on the other side of her now…”

Luke rubbed his neck. “Have the two of them met?”

“Yes.” Trevor propped an arm on the side of his truck. “She doesn’t like him.”

Luke’s posture relaxed in relief. “She’s always had good instincts about people.”

“About a lot of things, from what I see,” Trevor concurred. He understood why Luke was protective of his second-oldest daughter, but protection wasn’t what Rebecca needed.

Luke studied Trevor a long moment. “I never thought of you as a potential boyfriend for my daughter,” he said. “But I want you to know, should you ever decide to pursue her, you have my blessing.”

Trevor accepted the announcement with the respect it had been given. “I appreciate that, sir, but I would prefer you not mention this to Rebecca. It would probably blow whatever slim chance I have of getting her to go out with me.”

A quizzical lift of the brow. “And do you want to go out with her?” Luke asked.

Trevor shrugged. “I don’t think she wants to go out with anyone right now. She’s got her hands full starting up her operation.”

“Which is exactly why she needs someone like you in her life.”

“Be that as it may, that’s up to her to decide,” Trevor said. “And with all due respect, sir, I suggest you back off and give her room to do it.”

“SO WHAT’S REALLY GOING ON between you and my dad?” Rebecca asked Trevor the moment the movers and her parents had left.

He turned and gave her a look that was pure innocence. “What are you talking about?”

So you’re going to make me spell it out. “He obviously wanted to speak to you about something. Otherwise he wouldn’t have ridden over to your ranch with you.”

Trevor’s hazel eyes took on a gentle expression. “He’s concerned about you. I told him he didn’t need to be. You’re going to be a fine rancher. Yeah, there are bound to be difficulties, but there are people like me and my brothers and my mom and dad around to help you get acclimated to ranch living.”

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