Читать книгу Cowboy Dad - Cathy Mcdavid - Страница 11

Natalie skipped her usual sit-down breakfast the next morning. She had a hundred and one things to do and only two hours of uninterrupted work time while her mother watched Shiloh. After that, Deana would leave for the antique shop in Payson, an easy twenty-minute drive south on the highway.

Entering the dining hall, Natalie headed straight for the coffee station and filled her jumbo travel mug. On her way to the kitchen, she stopped by one of the tables and grabbed an English muffin, wrapping it in a napkin.

“Morning, honey,” her father called from the opposite table.

“Hey, Dad.”

Any other day, Natalie would have rushed over to give her father a quick hug or peck on the cheek. But this morning, he sat with Aaron Reyes, and they looked rather chummy with their heads bent, going over papers and maps and handwritten lists.

It wasn’t just their obvious involvement in whatever they were discussing that gave Natalie pause. Jake’s warning from the previous night still rang in her ears. He hadn’t told her not to talk to Aaron ever again, but he didn’t have to. She’d worked for Jake in some capacity since she was fourteen and long ago learned to read between his spoken lines.

“Gotta run.” She waved a hand at her father and smiled brightly, hoping neither he nor Aaron realized they were being snubbed. “See you later.” Sipping her coffee, she hurried toward the kitchen.

Natalie had her own list to go over with Olivia Barraza, supervisor of the kitchen crew and indisputable queen of her domain.

“Buenos días, chiquita,” she said to Natalie upon seeing her come into the kitchen. Though it had been a good many years since Natalie was a little girl, Olivia still used the endearment.

When Natalie took over her mother’s position, she’d worried that some of the staff, particularly those employees like Olivia who’d watched Natalie grow up and, on occasion, supervised her, wouldn’t accept her once they were on equal footing.

In Olivia’s case, Natalie’s worries were for nothing. They worked well together. When they weren’t on duty, Olivia treated Natalie like a beloved niece and Shiloh like one of her numerous grandchildren.

“I’ve got the most recent advance-booking numbers to go over with you.” Natalie pulled a stool up to the counter and took a seat. Weekly menus varied, depending on the number of guests staying at the ranch. To ensure the food served was the freshest possible, orders weren’t placed until the last minute.

Olivia dried her hands on a dish towel and came over to join Natalie. She was followed by one of her helpers, who, like Olivia, had been cleaning up after breakfast. The dishwasher, a young man barely into his twenties, remained at the sink, scrubbing a pot.

No sooner would the last fork be washed and dried and put away than the staff would start preparing lunch. When the new season started and there was an army of hungry guests to feed, twice the current staff would run the kitchen sixteen hours a day, operating with the precision and efficiency of a factory assembly line. Olivia tolerated nothing less.

“Before you get into that—” she settled herself onto the stool beside Natalie with a grace that belied her generous size “—there’s something we want to talk to you about.”

“We?”

She nodded at her helper. “Gerrie and I. Lucia and Pat, too,” she said, referring to her other two helpers who weren’t there.

“About what?” Natalie asked, a tad uneasy. Olivia was so rarely somber.

“Shiloh.”

“Shiloh?”

“Yes.” Olivia inched closer. So did Gerrie.

Natalie felt surrounded. “I don’t understand.”

“We know you need a babysitter and can’t find one.”

“That’s true. But—”

“We’ll do it.” Olivia and Gerrie exchanged nods.

Natalie’s glance went from one woman to the next. “You two?”

“We four. Lucia and Pat want to help, too.”

“Don’t look at me,” the dishwasher said from the sink when Natalie turned in his direction. “Kids are scared of me.”

With his piercings, scraggly goatee and full-sleeve tatts, Natalie believed him.

“But your days off,” she sputtered, still struggling to absorb everything Olivia had said. “You’d give them up?”

“Not all of them. We would rotate.” Olivia pulled a folded sheet of paper from her apron pocket and handed it to Natalie. “I’ve already talked to your mother and Briana. We need everyone to make this work.”

Natalie scanned the paper. On it was a seven-day grid with names penciled inside the squares, including her own. Olivia had gone though a lot of work to put it together.

“I don’t know what to say.” Natalie’s throat tightened.

“You say okay and thank you.”

“I’m really touched.” She tried to hand the paper back to Olivia. “But it’s too much to ask of you.”

“This is temporary,” Olivia assured Natalie, patting her arm. “Until you make other arrangements.”

“I’ll pay you,” Natalie insisted. “It’s only fair.”

“All right.” Olivia conceded with a shrug.

Natalie would have refused their plan unless they’d agreed to accept payment, and Olivia knew it.

“You sure, too?” Natalie looked inquiringly at Gerrie.

“Hey, I can use the extra money.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Gerrie giggled. “Why do you think I need the extra money?”

“Only until I hire a regular nanny,” Natalie reiterated over a catch in her throat.

“Of course.” Olivia beamed.

Natalie drew in a breath, composed herself, then said, “Okay and thank you.”

The three woman hugged. Natalie wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve such good friends. She’d have to find a way besides money to return their kindness.

For the next ten minutes, Natalie and Olivia went over the bookings and discussed food orders. Afterward, Natalie left through the dining area on her way next door to the main lodge. Her father and Aaron were gone, much to her relief. She wouldn’t have to find an excuse for avoiding Aaron.

Olivia and Gerrie had reminded her of what she already knew in her heart. The employees of Bear Creek Ranch weren’t just coworkers or even friends. They were family.

And Natalie would be a fool to jeopardize her place here by having anything other than a strictly professional relationship with Aaron.

THE CLINK, CLINK of a hammer against an iron anvil resounded through the crisp morning air. Seven horses stood tied to the hitching rail beside the barn entrance, their tails swishing and ears flicking. Six awaited their turn with the farrier. The seventh one belonged to Aaron.

Teresa and another ranch hand Aaron just met that morning helped the farrier. With forty head of riding stock to shoe, they had their work cut out for them.

Aaron’s lone female bunkmate had yet to warm to him, though he was pretty sure he sensed a slight crumbling of her hard exterior. The couch was about as comfortable as a sack of potatoes, and too short for his six-one frame. But, sad to say, he’d slept on worse. Not, however, for eight straight weeks. He rolled his shoulders to loosen some of the knots, thinking he might take Natalie up on her offer of a cot.

She’d avoided him at breakfast, and he was surprised at the depth of his disappointment. Until she abruptly escaped into the kitchen, he hadn’t known how much he was hoping she’d sit with him and her father. Did Jake talk to her? Warn her away as he had Aaron? He wouldn’t put it past the man.

All the more reason for Aaron to seek her out at dinner and ask her about the cot.

Talking softly to Dollar, Aaron hefted his saddle onto the horse’s back. When he pulled the girth tight, Dollar snaked his big head around and gave him the look.

“Sorry, boy.” He let the girth out. “Didn’t realize you’d put on a few pounds around the middle.”

The horse turned back to the fence, clearly insulted.

“Hey, you’re not the only one.” Aaron patted the front of his denim jacket. “Truth is, we’re both out of shape.”

He rode as often as he could. These days, “often” amounted to once, sometimes twice, a week. There’d been a time when he rode daily. When they weren’t rodeoing, Aaron and Dollar competed in team penning events—mostly for fun and only on a local level. That was how he’d met Hailey, when he congratulated her on beating the pants off him. He’d never been so happy to lose.

She was an experienced rider and careful. Not one to take unnecessary risks. Which was why her accident was so difficult to accept.

The mere click of a photographer’s camera was to blame. Her horse bolted at the insignificant sound just as they were exiting the arena after a successful run and an unprepared Hailey went flying. She bounced off the fence like a discarded rag doll and landed directly under the mare’s thrashing hooves. Two dozen people instantly poured from the sidelines but were too late to drag her to safety.

Aaron would never forget the horror on the photographer’s face.

Ironically, the mare had been Hailey’s favorite. They’d had hundreds of photos taken of them, appeared in dozens of publications. Why that particular day the mare spooked at something so familiar was a question Aaron had spent almost two years asking himself. He stopped only when he decided to come to Bear Creek Ranch and make Hailey’s death count for something.

“Be right back, boy.” Aaron patted Dollar’s neck and, leaving the girth undone, strolled to the side of the barn. He kept a toolbox in the storage compartment of his trailer.

“Need something?” Gary hollered to him from the barn aisle. He carried a fifty-pound saddle over one arm with the same ease most people carried a sack of groceries.

“Leather punch. Seems my horse has been cheating on his diet again.”

“There’s one in there if you want.” Gary hitched his chin in the direction of the tack room.

“Appreciate it.” When Aaron passed Gary, he noted the worn but superior-crafted saddle. Natalie’s father evidently didn’t spend all his days taking novice riders on trail rides through easy terrain.

“You do much endurance riding?” Aaron asked.

“Not like I used to.” Gary stopped, assessed Aaron with a critical eye. “Yourself?”

“Thought about it. Never tried, though.”

“I can take you out one day if you have a hankering.”

“I’d like that. See what my horse can do. He hasn’t been on a lot of trails.”

“This won’t be any run-of-the-mill trail ride.” There was a slight challenge in Gary’s voice.

Aaron smiled. He liked challenges. “Looking forward to it.”

“Leather punch is hanging on the far wall,” Gary said and strode off to saddle his horse. With four perfectly matched stockings and a gleaming Sorel coat, the gelding wasn’t run-of-the-mill either.

Their plan was to ride every one of the ranch’s eight horse trails winding through the surrounding mountains. They would make sure the trails were, first, accessible and, second, safe. Winter storms were notoriously destructive. Depending on what they found, maintenance crews would be dispatched to clear the trails of debris or repair places where the earth had eroded. Later in the week, Gary and Aaron would lead the riding stock over the same trails, reintroducing the horses before they carried people.

During breakfast that morning, Aaron learned more about Bear Creek Ranch and the many intricacies of its operation than he ever had from his late wife. In many ways, the ranch was like a small, highly organized village. Each resident had a job, from Jake Tucker to Randy and Skunk, and the ranch thrived only when everyone did their job. Aaron had observed a strong camaraderie among the staff, no doubt fueled by the closeness in which they lived, worked and recreated.

Becoming a member of their tight-knit clan, if that was even what he wanted, would require some doing. He might be one of the village leaders, but he hadn’t been born into the position, and acceptance didn’t come automatically for him.

One aspect of the ranch that had taken him by complete surprise was Jake’s living arrangements. Gary apparently assumed Aaron had prior knowledge of Jake’s divorce and his move to a house several miles away. Aaron hadn’t asked any questions at Gary’s casual reference despite a burning curiosity. Faults aside, Aaron’s former brother-in-law was a family man through and through. Leaving his daughters must have been a terrible blow and maybe accounted for the anger constantly simmering beneath the surface.

Stepping into the tack room, Aaron looked around. Like everything else in the barn and stables, on the entire ranch for that matter, the place was neat and tidy.

Saddles on racks occupied one entire wall, bridles and halters, another. In the center of the room were back-to-back shelving units. One side held an array of boots in varying sizes and styles, Aaron presumed for guests who didn’t bring their own. Cowboy hats and baseball caps were on the other. At the end of one shelf were three child-size riding helmets.

He went over and picked up one of the helmets. Turning it over, he inspected the condition of the straps, buckles and padding. While not new, the helmet was in decent shape and should adequately protect the small head inside it. There were no adult-size helmets in and amongst all the cowboy hats and baseball caps. Did guests not want them or did the ranch not provide them? Aaron intended to find out.

Many of the men he rodeoed with argued helmets didn’t make a difference and laughed in the face of anyone suggesting they wear one. They claimed all the safety equipment in the world hadn’t helped the actor Christopher Reeves when he suffered his tragic fall from a horse. Aaron wasn’t one of those men. If Hailey had been wearing a helmet, she might have survived and he wouldn’t be a widower.

It was Aaron’s goal, his plan, to see that others did survive. Children most especially. For that reason, and to honor Hailey’s memory, he’d returned to Bear Creek Ranch.

“Did you find the leather punch?” Gary asked from the doorway.

“Not yet.” Aaron replaced the helmet. On impulse, he asked, “Do you have any of these for adults?”

“Helmets? No.”

“Can I ask why?”

Gary scratched his chin. “No reason I can think of.”

“Have any guests ever requested them?”

“One or two.” Gary’s expression changed, becoming slightly guarded.

Aaron suspected that while Gary had an obligation to answer all his questions, he didn’t want to say anything that might reflect ill on the Tuckers.

“I’m going to recommend to Jake that we purchase some adult helmets.” Aaron crossed the room to the wall of tools and removed the leather punch. He turned back around and met Gary’s gaze head-on. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“Not at all.”

A safe, noncommittal answer. Aaron wasn’t annoyed at Gary. On the contrary. He admired the man for his loyalty to his employer.

The morning ride went smoothly. Gary didn’t say much the first hour. He must have grown tired of listening to himself think, because he eventually opened up and began chatting. They rode the two shortest trails first. Using a GPS device, Gary marked locations for the maintenance crews to check.

“What about the hiking and ATV trails?” Aaron asked. They guided their horses around a fallen log.

“Those are to the east and south of the ranch. Horse trails are to the west. We have crews inspecting those as well.”

“Are all the trails on ranch property?”

“The shorter ones are. The longer ones cross over onto federal land. We stay in constant contact with the neighboring ranches. They let us know in what areas their cattle are grazing so we can avoid any accidental run-ins.”

Gary was in the middle of telling Aaron about the all-day trail rides, which were combined with mini fishing trips, when the radio clipped to his belt emitted a loud beep.

Pulling his horse to a stop, he held the radio to his mouth and said, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” a male voice Aaron didn’t recognize asked.

“Five miles out. At the base of Windy Pass.”

“Hoof it on back. Jake’s orders.”

“Something wrong?” Gary shifted in his saddle, his steel-gray brows drawn together in a deep V.

“He needs Aaron back here on the double.”

“What for?” Aaron asked, feeling himself tense. Jake was up to something.

“Did he say what for?” Gary repeated Aaron’s question into the radio.

“Nope. And I didn’t ask.”

“All right.” Gary signed off after giving the caller their ETA.

It was faster to ride the trail to the end than turn around. Once again, he and Aaron talked very little. Probably because the scowl on Aaron’s face discouraged conversation. He considered refusing to return then thought better of it. Gary could wind up taking the heat for something that wasn’t his fault.

It was past one o’clock when they arrived back at the ranch, and Aaron was hungry. Had Jake’s call not come in, he and Gary would have broken for lunch. While Aaron was unsaddling Dollar, Natalie arrived in her golf cart. She parked far enough away not to spook the horses.

Walking toward him, she waved hello.

Because he liked what he saw, he stopped to watch. Her strides were long and her shoulders straight. She might only be a shade above five-six, but she carried herself like someone much taller. Aaron supposed there were guys put off by a woman exuding so much self-confidence. Not him. She had the makings of a true competitor, and Aaron found that a whole lot sexier than tight jeans and a low-cut blouse.

“I’m your ride,” she said, going up to Dollar and scratching him between the ears.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I was just told to come get you.”

“And take me where?”

She followed him when he carried his saddle and bridle into the tack room. “Founders Cabin. It’s where Walter and Ida Tucker lived. They were the original owners of the ranch and started the resort.”

“Hailey and Jake’s grandparents?”

“That’s right. After they passed on, their cabin was converted into a sort of museum and conference center.”

“Conference center?” Aaron had grabbed a brush on his way out of the tack room. “As in meetings?”

“Yes.”

She knew more than she was telling, Aaron would bet on it. But like the rest of her family, her loyalties lay rock solid with the Tuckers.

“We’d best hurry.” She checked her watch. “My orders were to take you to the cabin as soon as you and Dad got back.”

She was the second person to mention “orders” that day, and Aaron’s hackles rose. Jake Tucker really did like to throw his weight around.

“We’ll head out as soon as I put up Dollar and grab something to eat.” The sandwiches he and Gary packed that morning were still in their saddlebags.

“But Jake said I sh—”

“I don’t really care what he said.”

Natalie retreated a step, her internal struggle evident on her face.

Aaron swore under his breath. Like her father, she didn’t deserve to be put in the middle of his test of wills with Jake, and he was wrong to involve her. But something inside Aaron wanted Natalie to stand up to her boss. Defy him. Choose Aaron over him.

She wouldn’t, of course. Not in a million years.

“I’m sorry. I had no right taking my frustration with Jake out on you.”

She nodded mutely.

“He has a talent for rubbing me the wrong way.”

“I’d say it’s mutual.” Her expression was mildly reproachful.

Inhaling slowly, Aaron continued in a calmer tone. “Jake’s waited this long for me, five more minutes won’t make a difference. I’ll tell him that you did your best to hurry me along, but I refused. Everyone here will vouch for you.” He gestured at the half-dozen hands milling about the stable area, staring at them and trying their darnedest not to be conspicuous about it.

Her father was the exception. He kept a close, unguarded eye on his daughter.

“Okay.” Natalie went back to the golf cart, strides still long, shoulders still straight.

He’d won her over. Sort of. Aaron felt a small rush of satisfaction he wasn’t entitled to but enjoyed nonetheless.

After returning Dollar to his stall, he grabbed a sandwich and a cold soda, then slid onto the seat beside Natalie.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Let’s not keep the man waiting.” Which, of course, was exactly what Aaron had done.

She smiled at his joke, and he was glad—very glad, really—there was no residual tension between them.

Aaron wolfed down his sandwich and drink while they drove, which was a good thing. The trip to Founders Cabin was a short one. Located away from the other bunkhouses and main lodge, the cabin sat atop a small hill amid a dense thicket of trees. Not close to anything except a narrow tributary of Bear Creek.

There were two cars and one pickup truck parked outside the cabin. Natalie eased the golf cart between the vehicles and stopped beside a stone walkway leading to the front porch.

Aaron glanced over at her. The guilty expression she wore gave her away.

“Please. I don’t want to walk in there blind.” He impulsively laid a hand over the one she rested on her leg, and curled his fingers around hers. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She swallowed, and her gaze traveled to their joined hands, reminding him that he’d once again placed her in an unfair position.

He was about to retract his question when she suddenly blurted, “Jake’s called a family meeting. I don’t know why or what it’s about. He doesn’t tell me these things, and he doesn’t have to.”

“Thanks.” Aaron gave her hand a brief squeeze.

He didn’t turn around after climbing out of the golf cart, not even when Natalie started the engine and drove away. At the bottom of the porch steps, he paused to read an engraved brass monument sign. It told a short history of Walter and Ida Tucker and how they started the resort. They were an interesting and colorful couple. Aaron was sorry he never had the opportunity to meet them.

But as luck would have it, he was about to meet, and go head-to-head with, their offspring.