Jeannie Watt - Wrangling The Rancher

“The thing is...if I move to the Eagle Valley—” and somehow keep it quiet from her mother “—it feels like I’m giving up.”

“Why? Aren’t there jobs in your field in Missoula or Bozeman?”

“I’m sure there are.” In her field, but probably not at her level.

“They may not be as prestigious,” her grandfather said, reading her thoughts, “but they’d pay the bills.”

“Yes.” Hard to argue with that. Taylor took a drink of tea, trying to tamp down the feeling that she was being sucked into a farm vortex. She’d never once considered moving two states away from her beloved Seattle, or settling in a rural area, but the idea made an awful kind of sense. Her living expenses would be slashed to next to nothing. She was having no luck in her job search, and each day brought with it a deeper sense of desperation and depression. If something didn’t change soon, she’d have to sell her car, find a new living situation—one that involved roommates—and she’d have to pass a credit check to join a lease and...

“The farm would be a stopgap, until you get back on your feet.”

When had she become so transparent?

Taylor moistened her lips. “How would your tenant take the news if I decided to move in?”

“Cole’s a decent guy.”

If you say so... “What made you decide to rent the house to him instead of just leaving it closed up?”

“I didn’t want it broken into while I’m gone, and with him living there, he can farm more easily.”

He could also farm easily from the bunkhouse. He was a farm guy. Probably used to roughing it.

“How well do you know him?”

“Not all that well personally. His grandfather and I were friends.”

“Did you...cowboy together?”

Karl gave her a surprised look. “I wasn’t much of a cowboy, but I worked for two summers on the Bryan family ranch near Missoula. It’s a guest ranch now. Cole used to manage it until he got his fill.”

So he had indeed worked in a people-related field. Her radar was working.

“And did you approach him, or did he approach you?”

“He approached me.” One corner of Karl’s mouth quirked up. “Are you concerned about him taking advantage of me?”

“It happens.”

“Yes. But not in this case.”

“You’re sure? You said you didn’t know him well, yet you let him live there with all your stuff.”

“Yep. Because you know what? I’m a grown-up and I can make those kinds of decisions for myself.”

“I didn’t mean...” Taylor stopped. Regrouped. “I apologize, Grandpa. It startled me when he answered the phone yesterday. We got off on the wrong foot.”

“He’s a good kid.”

Kid. Ha. He was a grown man. Good-looking. Sexy. But an interloper all the same.

“Do you want to move onto the farm?”

Did she? Was she that desperate? Totally, or she wouldn’t be here right now. She’d started the drive because she was concerned about her grandfather and felt guilty for not being in closer contact, but she’d also needed to talk to him about a way out. The way she’d thought was so reasonable—the loan—wasn’t going to work, so that meant she needed to get tough and try something new.

And lose her beautiful apartment.

“I might. If things don’t change fast.”

“How soon would they have to change?”

Considering what she was paying for rent and utilities...?

“Yesterday.”

“I’ll call Cole.”

* * *

COLE CAME IN from the machine shed, wiping his hands on his bandanna for want of anything better. He was going to have to buy some shop towels. Karl had the equipment he needed to farm the place, but it could all use some work. This first part of the season, he was going to have to rely on baling wire and his wits to get things done on schedule, but after that he’d have time to fix things right.

He found himself smiling as he mounted the porch steps. Broken-down equipment? Not a problem. Not enough time to do what he needed to do? He could deal. Not having to saddle yet another horse for yet another clueless individual who wanted to know whether they provided spurs for the mounts? Priceless.

Cole didn’t hate people, but he was damned tired of dealing with them. Smiling and pretending all was well when it wasn’t. And dealing with Miranda...if he never saw the woman again, it would be too soon. His cousin Jordan had managed to get the better of her a few years ago, wrestling his small mountain ranch out of her grasp. Cole wished he could do the same with his family ranch, but his dad and his late uncle—Miranda’s husband—had gone into business together and Miranda had slowly but surely taken over both properties. Cole had worked for her until he couldn’t handle it one second longer.

Still, even though he’d wanted to tell the wicked witch exactly what he thought of her, he’d parted on relatively good terms. He still had stock in the family ranch and didn’t want to make things any more impossible than they already were.

But he never wanted to saddle anyone’s horse again—ever.

The landline rang as he walked in the door, and he couldn’t help but flash on the last call he’d taken on that phone. Karl’s granddaughter was a piece of work. Kick-ass gorgeous, but as far as attitude went...well, princess wasn’t the right word. Privileged. Yes. She was privileged and obviously not all that good at hearing the word no.

Cole pulled the phone off the hook on the fifth ring. “Hello.”

“Shouldn’t you be making hay when the sun shines?”

Cole grinned at Karl’s dry tone. “Trying. I have some work to do on the equipment, but everything should be up and running—” for a while anyway “—in short order.”

“Good to hear. Hey...my granddaughter stopped by the farm, right?”

“On her way down to see you. She sure didn’t waste any time getting over here after I answered your phone.”

“Yeah. She’s going through a rough patch. I, uh, told her she could move onto the ranch. I know you’re renting the house, but the bunkhouse is there, and I figured you guys wouldn’t be falling all over each other, in the different buildings, so...”

“Hey. You’re doing me a favor letting me rent the house.” The bunkhouse was in pretty good shape. It wasn’t that different from the bunkhouses on the guest ranch, minus all the cutesy cowboy shit. “I don’t mind moving.”

“That makes no sense. You already have your stuff in the house. Taylor’s happy to stay in the bunkhouse.”

Cole scratched his head. “Are you sure about this?” Maybe he was talking about a different granddaughter. One who didn’t have “pampered princess” written all over her.

“Yeah.”

The sheer innocence in the guy’s tone convinced him. “I don’t care if she stays.” Much.

“She’s looking at getting work in Missoula or Bozeman, so it may not actually be that long.”

“It’s your place, Karl. I’m good with it.”

“Thanks.”

Cole hung up the phone and stood for a moment contemplating the floor. Had he been that wrong about Taylor Evans? She’d happily move into the bunkhouse?

Well, every now and again he’d read a guest wrong...but it didn’t happen often—and he wasn’t all that certain it had happened yesterday. Time, obviously, would tell.

He’d just started for the door when his cell phone rang. So popular today...

“Hello.”

“Stop me before I kill Miranda.”

He put a hand on the doorjamb and rested his forehead against his hand. “What happened, Jance?” His younger sister, Jancey, let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Just the usual bullshit. Passive-aggressive sweet stuff, followed by threatening me later.”

“What happened?”

Another sigh. “She was embarrassed today because of a mishap in scheduling with some rich guests she wanted to impress, was all nicey-nice about it while the guests were there then pretty much told me that if it happened again, I was going to be demoted to kitchen work. But it wasn’t my fault, it was hers.”