Roz Denny Fox - An Unlikely Rancher

“Okay.” Andee leaned forward and pressed her nose against the side window. “Does he have a dog?”

“None that I see,” Jenna muttered. “If he is the interim manager, I’ll ask if he knows of any problems with us getting you a dog.”

“Yay. I hope he says it’s okay.” Andee settled back to slurp the chocolate milk they’d splurged on.

Jenna saw the guy pull a ball cap from his back pocket as she closed the gap between them. He adjusted it to shade his eyes from the midday sun and leaned on a pitchfork he’d carried out of the shed.

Stopping short, Jenna gave her name. “I’m the new owner,” she added. “I assume you’re the man Bud Rhodes said was taking care of the ostriches in his absence.”

“Yep. Don Winkleman. I didn’t come by yesterday because Oscar said you were due in. I expected to hear from you.”

“I didn’t know your schedule.”

“Been working some every day for two years. I wanted to buy the place, but Oscar needed all his money up front and I wasn’t able to get 100 percent financing. You’ll pardon me if I say you don’t look like a rancher.”

Jenna chuckled. “I’m still getting moved in. I have gloves and boots, so I’m sure I’ll look the part of a rancher soon.”

“Still, all the trappings don’t make you a rancher.” Don spat off to his right and wiped his mouth with a blue kerchief he pulled from a pocket in his overalls.

She couldn’t say she liked this guy’s tone.

He set the pitchfork against the shed. “I manage the place. That’s worth more money.” He abruptly named a figure substantially higher than what Oscar Martin had put in his notes.

The new amount he requested bowled her over. But Jenna refused to let his directness cow her. She figured the amount he’d named was for full management. She’d already planned that by working with him she’d soon be able to cut some of his current part-time hours. But she wasn’t about to share that idea with him now.

“I’m not prepared to pay more than Mr. Martin was paying you.”

“Sorry, that’s what my services are worth, little lady. It’s more than fair.”

Little lady?

Jenna studied his iron jaw. He thought he had her over a barrel. Maybe because she was new to the area or maybe because she was a woman. Either way his demand nettled Jenna. “Like I said, Mr. Winkleman, if you want to continue working for me, at the moment I’ll match what Mr. Martin paid you. At some future date I foresee needing less hours, though.”

“That’s not acceptable.”

“Well, you’re free, of course, to quit.”

The man appeared shocked, then his face hardened and he leaned toward her. “Nobody around knows this business like I do. You’ll regret letting me go.”

Still smarting from her failure to make any headway at the airpark, Winkleman’s attitude left Jenna doubly resolved to stand firm. “Please go. Tomorrow I’ll hire your replacement and drop off a check with Bud Rhodes for the hours you worked today.”

Winkleman took another step toward her and fisted his hands at his sides. “You won’t find anyone in town capable of filling my shoes. Soon enough you’ll come begging and it’ll cost you even more to get me back.”

Andee had silently left the SUV, made her way over and was now clinging to Jenna’s shirttail.

Worried that she may have been foolish to provoke this man she knew nothing about, Jenna deliberately set Andee behind her.

She’d never been more relieved to see a vehicle pull into her lane than at this moment. Whoever drove the newer blue pickup, their timing couldn’t have been better.

The three watched as it drove up and stopped adjacent to the Cherokee. Only then did it cross her mind that the newcomer could be a friend of Don Winkleman’s. Just in case, she eased her cell phone out of her pocket and prepared to dial 9-1-1.

What if this area doesn’t operate on 9-1-1?

Stuck between a glowering Winkleman and the blue pickup, Jenna’s heart pounded.

The door opened and Flynn Sutton, the airpark owner, emerged.

Andee let out a squeal. “Mommy, Mommy, look! Beezer did come to visit me. You said he wouldn’t, but I knew he would.”

Andee nearly mowed Flynn down in her haste to meet his seemingly equally excited dog.

“So it is you,” Flynn said, taking off his mirrored sunglasses as he approached Jenna. “I figured it had to be,” he muttered. “After you left I received a fax from my landlord. Oscar Martin said he’d sold everything and now I owe my rent to the woman who bought him out.”

“You? You rent the house in town?” Jenna’s jaw went slack.

Flynn ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Seems so,” he said. Then, as if seeing the other man for the first time, Flynn glanced from him to Jenna and asked, “Is there a problem here?”

She ran an eye over the lean yet muscular pilot who no doubt would come to her rescue if she needed help. But she hadn’t come here to rely on another man.

She’d gone from relying on her dad, to relying on Andrew, to relying on Rob and Melody. A single mother at thirty-one, it was time she took care of herself.

“No problem,” she said. “Mr. Winkleman was just leaving.”

“That I am.” Stalking to his pickup, he yanked open the door and vaulted inside. “You owe me half a day’s wages!”

He slammed the door, started the pickup with a roar and cut the wheels in such a tight turn, he scattered sand in his wake.

Flynn reached out to shield Andee and Beezer from flying dirt.

Sputtering in indignation, Jenna rushed to help. “Andee, honey, are you okay? That was uncalled for,” she said, using both hands to dust off Beezer’s shaggy fur.

“What was that about?” Flynn asked, staring after the truck.

She shrugged. “He worked for Mr. Martin and I let him go. I expect he was blowing steam. Is there something you needed other than to introduce yourself?”

Flynn twisted his lips to one side. “I hate to start our business dealings with a complaint...”

She suppressed a groan. Could this day get much worse?

“But when I went home for lunch, my air conditioner was making funny noises. Before I finished eating, it quit. The house is small, so it didn’t take long to feel like an oven inside. I climbed up on the roof to take a look at the unit—”

“You what? You can’t just... I mean, I would be liable if—”

“I know about all there is to know about an airplane, but I’m afraid I know nothing about air conditioners. It’s leaking. I couldn’t tell from where.”

A knot balled in Jenna’s stomach. Because she’d had to deplete her savings to buy out Oscar Martin, and because Andrew’s death benefits were being held up, she was short of working capital. Everything had cost more than she’d budgeted. The property. The insurance. The Jeep. Even groceries. The last thing she needed after her unsettling encounter with Don Winkleman was another costly problem.

Tugging on her bottom lip, she organized her thoughts. “I’m not familiar with any of the reputable businesses in town. I guess I can check with my Realtor. Do you know a repair service that can send someone to take a look at it?”

“I do.”

“Wonderful. If you don’t mind calling them, since you’ll no doubt need to arrange to be home to let them inside, I’d appreciate it.”

She took the grocery receipt out of her pocket, ripped off one end and jotted her cell number on the back.

“Now, I really have to put my groceries away. And with Winkleman gone, I have chores that need doing.” She struggled a moment with panic, realizing chores she’d never done before and repairing things like Sutton’s air conditioner were suddenly all on her. “If you’ll ask the repair person to call me with an estimate, I’m sure we can get you fixed up ASAP,” she said, not feeling confident at all.