Cowboy For Hire Page 5

  “That’s amazing,” she said, leaning back and smiling at him.

  He gave her a nod. He was proud of the system he’d introduced over at the Donnellys’, and it made him feel like he was bringing something few other ranchers could.

  She tilted her head slightly, and those gorgeous eyes of hers seemed to look right through him, searching for something he was pretty damn sure he didn’t have. “I know you’ve worked on a ranch out here in Wishing River—did you grow up on a ranch, too?”

  He finished his hot chocolate and placed it on the desk, averting his gaze. “No. Far from it.”

  “Oh, well, you must really love it. It’s a hard profession to just jump into.”

  He gave her a nod and fixed his gaze on the computer screen. “It’s getting pretty late. I’ll probably be here for a couple more hours. If you want to stay, I can go through this with you?”

  Not wanting to be rude, he tried to keep the defensiveness from his tone. He needed to help her, to do his job, and nothing more. He didn’t want to share his past, and he didn’t want to risk knowing more about hers. He already found her attractive, but if he got to know her, it would be harder to keep his distance, which was vital with their current roles at the ranch. She needed to remain his boss and nothing more.

  A tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks, and she stood abruptly. “Like I said, I don’t want to slow you down. I know you have an early start tomorrow. We all do. Maybe when things settle down in a bit and you have some more free time, you can show me what you’re going over?”

  Guilt pricked his conscience. “I will. I promised I’d have you ready to run this ranch in a year, and I’ll make sure you are.”

  She smiled. “Good night,” she said before opening the door and leaving.

  He let out a breath and forced himself to get back to work, but his gaze lingered on the family pictures in front of him, and he realized what was so strange about the photos—there were repeated ones of Sarah at different ages, her parents at different ages, but there was only one picture of that boy he was assuming to be her brother.

  He glanced at his empty mug of hot chocolate and mentally chastised himself for caring about any of this. Cade was a worker, an employee—he always would be. People like Sarah were owners. He’d best keep his mind focused on who he was, not who he never could be.

  Reminding himself that he was here as a foreman and not anything more, he settled in for a night of paperwork.

  Chapter Five

  After two weeks of working alongside Cade and all the other ranchers, Sarah was fairly certain she would never be invited into their club of manly cowboys. That was fine. She didn’t need to be friends with anyone; she just needed to know what she was doing. Her plan was to continue proving she was just as competent so that when she stepped into a more active role in a year, there’d be some level of respect.

  She walked out of the barn after another long day. Loneliness pooled inside her as she headed in the direction of the main house while cowboys headed toward the bunkhouse.

  Despite their conversation, Cade was treating her like some kind of royalty instead of just one of the guys. Their night last week in her father’s office had made her want to know more about him. It had felt very strange to be sitting there with him, isolated, just talking. Clearly part of the reason she found it strange was because she had no life and talked to no one under the age of seventy, let alone at night. She’d felt a mix of excitement and safety that she’d never experienced before.

  But then something had shifted. When she’d asked him about himself, he’d just closed up. She had been embarrassed that she’d pushed too far, even though she hadn’t intended on it. She was rusty with people her age and needed to get out way more. He probably thought she was weird for sure. And now he thought she had IBS on top of everything else.

  “Cade,” she called out, spotting him as he was heading into the canteen for dinner. He stopped and turned around, and her stomach did that fluttery thing she was now accustomed to when he gave her his full attention.

  He fit in here better than she did. It was as though he’d always been here. He had a way of making people comfortable around him but still maintaining an air of authority that no one questioned. His greenish-blue eyes were striking against his tanned skin and were just visible under the brim of his cowboy hat as he approached. “Hi. Anything I can help you with?”

  That was the other thing. He was over-the-top polite to her. It was always about him helping her with something or making something easier for her. “Yes, that cattle drive next week. Can I get some details? When we’re going, what time, what I should bring with me. You know, that kind of thing.”

  He ran a hand over his jaw. It was unshaven, and when she had a few seconds to daydream, she found herself wondering whether or not she liked the clean-shaven Cade or the stubbly Cade. It was obvious she’d had way too boring a life and was becoming fixated on a man who saw her as nothing more than an employer—and a helpless employer at that. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I’m not sure it’s a good idea if you come along with us.”

  She inhaled sharply. “What? I told you I was coming and you agreed.”

  He winced. “Yes, but now that I’ve gotten to know the situation here, I’m thinking it might be too much too soon. That trail through the mountains is pretty damn treacherous.”

  She straightened her shoulders and took a step toward him. “I’m not a novice rider. I haven’t ridden in years up until these last few weeks, but make no mistake—I can ride. I could probably outride you and half these men out here. I know those mountains. We had an agreement, and this is my ranch, so if I want to go on a cattle drive, I’m going.”

  He shoved his hands in his jeans, his steely gaze not leaving hers. “All right. You’re the boss. It’s a two-day cattle drive. We leave at four in the morning. I’ll get you a list of things you’ll need.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I’ll have to redo my cattle drive positions, since I’ve already picked my team and what position they’ll be riding in,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  “Well then, I’ll let you go and get to it.”

  “Those medical issues you don’t want to talk about…it’d be wise to tell me about them before we leave.”

  It was like Edna sent him her entire lifetime chart from the doctor. She threw her hands in the air. “Mrs. Casey greatly exaggerates many things. Have you seen me sick or tired? I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Then why haven’t you done this before? Why didn’t you go out there on last spring’s cattle drive?”

  She lifted her chin, scrambling because he was asking a lot of questions that she didn’t want to give answers to. “Because my mother had just died. I was in no emotional condition.”

  His jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. So what about the year before that?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “My mother was very ill, and I was here taking care of her. I couldn’t very well take off for a few days with no way to be reached.”

  “What about the year before that?”

  “What is the point of this?”

  “I’m just trying to ensure that there are no surprises out there—not just for my sake but for yours. You’ve got a bunch of cowboys going out into the mountains for two days with hundreds of heads of cattle. If you can’t keep up or you need help, it’s going to be pretty hard to slow down.”

  She balled her hands into fists. “I won’t need help.”

  He turned his head, staring out into the distance for a moment, his jaw clenched. “Okay,” he said, turning back to her.

  She smiled and resisted the urge to jump in the air with excitement. He had no idea what a victory this was. This was the beginning of her new life. “Have a good night,” she said before all but running back to the main house.

  Triumph
washed through her. Baby steps, she said to herself as she climbed the back porch steps. Dinner would be waiting for her inside just like it always was at this time, but she didn’t want it. She was hungry for something that wasn’t food. She was hungry for that life she’d led when she was a child, when Josh was alive. The one that promised her the world could be hers for the taking, the one that had vanished along with her brother.

  “Sarah, is that you? I have a wonderful new Paleo stew simmering along with some grain-free biscuits. Wash up and I’ll have everything on the table for you,” Mrs. Casey called out from the kitchen.

  “Smells delicious,” Sarah said as she tugged off her dirty boots. The aroma of tomatoes and beef and baking filled the home, and her stomach growled. She’d barely eaten today, and that would sometimes trigger a migraine. She was going to have to be more careful or Cade would second-guess his decision to let her come along. “I’ll just take a quick shower and join you in the kitchen,” she said as she walked down the hall. Instead of running up the stairs toward the bathroom, she paused outside the living room, her gaze resting on the piano.

  She hadn’t played in so long. But tonight, the music called to her, and she wondered if it was because of everything that was happening.

  Back before Josh died, the piano was her voice, something she and Josh shared. Sometimes he’d sit beside her on the bench and purposefully press the wrong key to be silly. Other times, he’d be horsing around while she played. He’d call out the name of a song and see if she could play it.

  Her favorite memory, though, from shortly before the accident, was him lying on the couch, casually tossing his football in the air. But in typical Josh fashion, he threw too hard and the football crashed into the chandelier above, sending crystals all over the floor. When their parents had rushed into the room, she had played a rousing rendition of Beethoven’s “Symphony No. 5”—the dum-dum-dum-duuuuum one—and then they’d all broken out into laughter.

  But that kind of joy died along with him. So she’d stopped playing.

  Slowly crossing the large, shadowed living room, she approached the piano and opened the lid on the bench, taking out an old songbook and flipping open the cover. She stared at the picture of her brother she knew would be there and pulled it out.

  She tucked the book back in the bench, closed the lid, and sat down. She stared at Josh’s picture, into his eyes, and smiled. “You’d be proud of me. Part one of our plan to take over the ranch is happening. I wish you were coming on that cattle drive, though,” she whispered.

  Letting her fingertips trail over the keys without pressing any of them, she shut her eyes and silently played the song Josh had loved most. She didn’t want to share this moment with anyone, and Mrs. Casey would come running if she heard the music.

  She had decided not to tell Mrs. Casey about the cattle drive just yet. Cade’s continued inquiries about her medical history made her wonder how much the woman had blown her migraines out of proportion this time. They could be bad, sure, but Sarah would just make sure she was prepared and avoided all triggers. She’d have her medication in her pocket at all times, she’d stay well hydrated and would avoid stress. If anything, the fresh air would be good for her.

  She closed her eyes and continued playing silently, the memory of the music flooding her senses and drowning out all the doubts in her mind. Just as she’d played for the family, for guests, for audiences when Josh was still alive, she played tonight, without ever pressing a key.

  She would never go back to the life her parents wanted for her.

  …

  Cade cursed out loud in his bedroom. He’d hoped to actually have one early night since moving to Joshua Ranch and had been counting on a solid eight hours. He glanced at the glowing numbers on his alarm clock and realized it was only eight o’clock, but still.

  He groaned as he got out of bed and made his way to the door. Judging by the loud pounding, he suspected it was either Dean or Tyler. But he whipped the door open to find Mrs. Casey standing there in her pink velour night-robe, her gray hair in rollers and her face the same shade as her robe.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked, holding the side of the door.

  She shielded her eyes. “You should put clothes on, young man, before answering the door!”

  He glanced down at himself, belatedly remembering he was only in his boxers. “All right. Come on in and I’ll go get a shirt and jeans,” he said, leaving the door open and walking into his laundry room. Mrs. Casey was a funny one to figure out; she barked orders like a drill sergeant, knocked back whiskey like the best of them, while being as prim and proper as a nun. He grabbed a neatly folded T-shirt and jeans from the laundry basket and made his way back to the front door.

  Mrs. Casey was pacing his entrance. “There’s been an emergency.”

  He tensed, even though something told him their ideas of emergencies were two very different things. “Well then, it probably wasn’t a good idea to make me waste time getting dressed,” he said, putting on his boots.

  She pursed her lips. “Well, it wasn’t proper to parade yourself.”

  “What’s the emergency?” he asked, not wanting to engage that line of conversation any more.

  “Sarah has taken off,” she said with a swoop of her hand.

  “Like, on vacation?”

  She made a sound. “No, on a horse!”

  He frowned, slightly concerned now. “Pretty late for a ride.”

  “Yes! And by herself. You need to go find her. It’s dangerous. There are rules; she should know better than this.”

  Cade frowned. Rules? About when and where she could be outside? Mrs. Casey was probably overreacting, but the story Dean and Tyler told him about what had happened to Sarah’s brother popped into his head.

  “She’ll be fine,” he said, grabbing his hat and holding open the door. He attempted to pat her shoulder as she passed him, because he wasn’t used to having to reassure elderly women. But she just swatted his hand away as though she were shooing a fly.

  It wasn’t dark out yet, and he knew Sarah was levelheaded, but the medical stuff Mrs. Casey kept hinting at did make him concerned as well. Sarah really needed to tell him what was going on beyond her vague “don’t worry” type of answers. Still, riding alone once night fell wasn’t the best idea in the world, and boss or not, he was going to tell her that when he caught up to her.

  The thing was, he was sensing something in her changing. She’d made it clear from day one that she was going to take over the ranch, but there was something else happening below the surface. She was frustrated. He knew she was irritated with him and his cattle-drive warning. He’d been trying to just take the easiest route for everyone involved. It wasn’t that the men would mind having her…it just complicated things. He was so damn overworked right now that complications only added to his list of problems.

  “Well, I can tell you she took the trails that lead toward the mountains. It’s ridiculous. Foolish of her to do this. She knows what could happen,” Edna muttered as she walked with him.

  “I’ll catch up to her,” he said, heading to the barn. Once he was saddled up, he took the trails Mrs. Casey had mentioned and picked up speed. Sarah must have had a good head start and was riding pretty fast, because it took him a good few minutes at breakneck speed to finally spot her. There was no mistaking, though—Sarah knew how to ride. Her form in the saddle was that of an experienced rider. He’d noticed that on their first day. He wondered if this ride into the mountains had anything to do with her trying to prove herself.

  “Sarah! Wait up!” he yelled.

  She glanced over her shoulder for a second and then kept going. He had no idea if she was going to listen to him. After another minute, she finally slowed down at a grassy clearing, above a pretty steep bank. There was enough grass for the horses to graze, and the narrower band of water from Wishing River meandered thro
ugh. He tried not to look as irritated as he felt. “What are you doing?”

  She frowned at him. “Going for a ride.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Clearly not, since you’re here now,” she said, dismounting like a pro. Again, just seeing how comfortable she was around horses reminded him she was no novice, as much as Edna treated her as such.

  He dismounted as well. “Edna wanted me to come find you.”

  She shrugged, walking toward the edge of the bank that overlooked the river. “Edna should know I can take care of myself. This isn’t in your job description.”

  He ignored the jolt of sympathy he felt for her. There was something about her that seemed so lonely. Clearly they weren’t really friends, because she thought of him as an employee looking out for his employer. That was the right way to view their relationship, of course—that was all it could ever be. He followed her, sitting down next to her. “Doesn’t hurt to have company.”

  She zipped up the navy hoodie she was wearing and crossed her arms, staring out at the river. “‘Company’ and ‘babysitting’ are two different things. I wasn’t running away from home like a troubled teen. I just wanted some solitude.”

  He could relate to that, but what was her reason? A part of him wanted to know more about her, and the other part—the one that cashed checks and made sure he had a roof over his head—told him that would be unwise. Getting tangled up with an employer on a personal level was never a good idea. Look what had happened when his boss was his best friend.

  He spread his arms out behind him, leaning his weight on his palms. The grass was prickly and slightly wet to touch. “Probably wise to do it during the day, though.”

  She let out a sigh and faced him, her green eyes settling on his. “Why are you here?”