Ann Roth - A Rancher's Christmas

“Very funny. Nope.” Not directly, anyway. In his own eyes, he was. The family of Sam Swain, the man who’d suffered a heart attack and died after Zach had forged the business deal that had undercut what he wanted, probably agreed. But Zach’s family and fiancée at the time hadn’t believed he’d done anything wrong—except when he’d sold his own company.

“You’re going to have to break your promise to Lucky. I can’t possibly—”

Not wanting to hear it, Zach held up his hands, palms out. “Just listen.”

She sighed. “All right, but I’ve made up my mind.”

“You no doubt know that people all over the country, maybe even the world, romanticize cowboys and ranching. Some even dream of living the ranching life. Why not indulge in that dream by offering a working vacation on a ranch?”

“You’re talking about a dude ranch.” She was tuned in now, her eyes bright and interested.

“Exactly. A few months ago, Lucky and I started laying out plans for turning the Lucky A into a working dude ranch. Imagine visitors staying for a weekend or as long as two weeks, paying for ‘the ranching experience,’” he said, making air quotes, “and providing free labor. In return, the Lucky A supplies lodging, meals and expertise.”

“Uncle Lucky thought that up?” Gina looked confused.

“Actually, I did, but Lucky jumped at the idea, especially after we penciled out the numbers. We’d have to update the bunkhouse and hire a cook, but if we brought in just twenty people a month between May and October, we’d break even.”

“My uncle has never penciled out numbers for anything.” Gina gave him a shrewd look. “Something tells me you haven’t always been a ranch foreman.”

“I’ve dabbled in a few other things. What do you think about the Lucky A Dude Ranch?”

“I have questions. These days, the crew lives in trailers. The bunkhouse hasn’t been used for years, except for storage. Getting it in working order will take a lot of updating. Where does the money to make those improvements come from?”

“We penciled that out, too. The wiring and plumbing are in decent enough shape, but the building needs more insulation and a new furnace and air conditioner, plus paint and new fixtures. I can do everything but install the heating and cooling systems, which will save a bundle. The estimated cost will be roughly twenty to thirty thousand dollars.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

Zach put up his hand, palm out, to silence her. “Lucky and I talked to the bank and they were willing to loan him half of that. If beef prices stay high, we figured he’d net the rest by spring. Once the business is up and running and profitable and the loan is paid back, we’ll look into adding a couple of cabins.”

Gina stacked her mug on top of her empty plate. “As intriguing as the idea is, you can count me out.”

He’d expected this. “You say that now, but I’m not giving up.” He scraped his chair back and stood. “Thanks for the coffee and toast. Before I forget, the combination to your uncle’s safe is his dad’s birthday, April 5, zero four zero five one nine. I’ll let myself out.”

He left her sitting at the table.

* * *

THAT AFTERNOON, ZACH, Curly and Bert, two of the crew members, checked the water troughs that provided a steady supply of water to the cattle. Sometime during the night, the heater in the big water tank had failed and the water had frozen in the pipes. Thirsty cattle had ventured onto the ice at the river, which was slippery and dangerous. Pete, a mechanical whiz, was already at work repairing the heater.

Donning safety glasses, the three of them wielded shovels and pickaxes to break the stuff up in the troughs and remove it. Then, with the help of a blowtorch, they began to melt the water in the pipes. For now the cattle would have the water they needed.

They were almost finished when Zach’s cell phone rang. He pulled off a glove and slid the phone from his jacket pocket. He didn’t recognize the number, but the 312 area code was Chicago’s. Had to be Gina.

He’d been thinking about her pretty much nonstop since that morning. Everything about her both fascinated and irritated him. The cute expression on her face when she told him about the awful coffee she’d made, her pretty smile and the way her eyes had sparked when she defended her career. How her breasts had looked in that sweater.

Zach swallowed. He was way too attracted to her for his own good and was both pleased that she had his number and put out that she’d called.

Curly and Bert eyed him curiously.

“I better get this,” he said. “This is Zach,” he answered gruffly.

A slight hesitation. Then, “It’s Gina. Is this a bad time to call?”

Did she have any idea of the knots she’d tied him up in? Yeah, it was a bad time. “I thought you had to meet with Matt Granger,” he said, drawing raised eyebrows from Curly. He knew that Granger was Lucky’s lawyer and realized who Zach was talking with. After hearing about her from Lucky for years, the crew had finally met her at the house last night.

“I’m supposed to meet him at three, but I can’t find Uncle Lucky’s bank receipts or other papers. I thought I’d find them in his desk, but they aren’t there. Uncle Redd isn’t answering his phone, and neither is Gloria or Sophie.”

“Did you check the safe?”

“Um, I don’t know where it is.”

Why hadn’t she asked him this morning? As much as Zach trusted the two crew members, he wasn’t about to tell her within hearing range of them. “Hang on a sec.” He muted his end of the line so she couldn’t hear him. “I need to go to the house and help Gina with something.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Bert said, giving him a sly look. “She’s a foxy one.”

Zach narrowed his eyes, and the burly ranch hand backed up a step. “No offense meant. What do you want us to do when we finish here?”

“Help Chet with loading the hay onto the flatbed. Make sure none of the herd has wandered off, and feed and water the horses. If you run into problems, give me a call.”

Zach climbed into his truck and drove to the house.

Looking worried, Gina met him at the back door. “I had to call the attorney and reschedule for four. I can’t find anything in the desk except junk. Uncle Lucky is—was—such a pack rat.”

Zach eyed the four-foot-high stack of yellowing newspapers against the kitchen wall. “He sure was.” He wiped his feet and stepped inside. “So you don’t know where the safe is.”

“I didn’t even know he had one until you mentioned it this morning, and I thought...I assumed that the papers I needed would be in the desk.”

“Let’s go into Lucky’s office.” Zach followed Gina through the kitchen and down the hallway. She was wearing the same sexy sweater and pants as that morning, an outfit that had to cost a mint. Gina had a great ass and hips that swayed naturally and seductively.

By the time they reached the office, he was semihard and not happy about that. Turning away from her, he headed through the room, stopping in front of an oil painting of a cowboy astride a horse that hung opposite the desk. He lifted the painting off the wall and set it carefully down.

Gina’s eyes widened. “For as long as I can remember, that painting has been hanging there. I had no idea it was hiding a safe.”

“Now you know. This is where you’ll find all of Lucky’s important papers, including a copy of the will and our spreadsheet for the dude ranch.”

“See, a word like spreadsheet—that wasn’t part of my uncle’s vocabulary.”

“After we developed one, it was. Try the combination.” Zach stepped back so that she could work the numbers.

She opened the safe and pulled out half a dozen folders. There was no room for them on Lucky’s cluttered desk, so she stacked them on the desk chair. “Just look at all this stuff.”