Читать книгу The Rancher's Homecoming - Cathy McDavid, Cathy Mcdavid - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Annie tried not to stare at Sam as she set the cage down and walked over to Lyndsey. He didn’t make it easy. Levi’s, a faded chambray shirt and a Stetson covering thick, dark hair in need of a cut was a look he wore well.

Standing straight, she reminded herself he’d left her high and dry. Not once, but twice. There would be no third time.

“Gosh, would you look at them!” She directed her smile at Lyndsey and the kits.

“They’re eating canned cat food!” Lyndsey exclaimed. One kit scrambled up her chest toward her shoulder while the other one clawed at the crate.

“Already? I’m impressed.”

“You think they’re going to be all right?”

The kits were active, alert and responsive. All encouraging signs.

“It’s a little too soon to say for certain, but my guess is they’ll make it.”

“Why did their mommy and brothers die? Was it because of the fire?”

“Not the fire itself.” Annie started to say the entire eco-structure in the area had been profoundly altered, which, in turn, affected local wildlife, then decided the explanation was too complicated for an eight-year-old. “The land’s changed, and the animals are have a harder time surviving than they once did.”

“This one is Daffy.” Lindsey lifted the kit from her lap into the air. “Want to hold him?”

“Sure.” Annie took the kit and cradled it close. The warm feel and musky scent were familiar. How many baby raccoons had she rescued and raised? Six? Ten?

Now she was rescuing and raising her family. If only that were as easy as a pair of kits.

“You’d better take him.” She returned Daffy to Lyndsey. “The fewer people who handle him and his brother, the better.”

“Why?”

“They’ll adjust easier to the animal sanctuary or the wild.”

Lyndsey sucked in a gasp. “Won’t they just die if you let them go?”

“At this age, yes. But the sanctuary will care for them until they’re old enough to be safely released. And they’ll teach them how to find food and to take care of themselves.”

“That’s what Ms. Hennessy did.” The remark came from Sam. “With all the animals she took in.”

“Some. Others weren’t ever able to fend for themselves.”

“What happened to them?” Lyndsey hugged Daffy closer.

“I kept them for the rest of their lives.”

“You had quite a collection,” Sam said. “I’d help you feed and clean the enclosures.” He looked at Lyndsey. “Her mother used to call it the zoo.”

Annie snuck a quick peek at him. The thrill she’d fended off earlier wound through her, proving she wasn’t immune to him and the easy, sexy charm he exuded.

As if she’d ever been.

He was older now. Experience had left its mark on his face and made him even more handsome—and her more susceptible.

“Wow!” Lyndsey’s eyes went wide. “That must have been cool.”

“It was,” Sam concurred. “And then, she’d treat my horses whenever they needed some minor medical attention. Cuts, colic, vaccinations. We were a good team.” His gaze found hers and held it.

“Once, maybe.” A rush of memories assailed Annie, and she forced herself to look away.

“You’re like a vet!”

Thankfully, Lyndsey appeared unaware of the emotions flying between Annie and her father.

“Not hardly. But I thought I wanted to be one when I was your age.”

“What stopped you?” Sam asked.

She turned and faced him. “The inn. I was needed there.”

“Do you ever regret your choice?”

“Not for one second. Sweetheart Inn has been in my family for three generations. It will be for a fourth.”

“What happened to the animals?” Lyndsey asked.

“I stopped collecting so many after your dad...after a while.” Annie went over and retrieved the cage from where she’d left it. “Where are you keeping the kits?”

“In my bedroom,” Lyndsey promptly answered.

“That was just for last night.” Sam bent and stroked her hair. “We talked about this. The barn is the best place.”

She pulled away, her mouth set in a firm line. “You always say no.”

Annie sensed the friction between them wasn’t due entirely to the kits. This battle had been waged before over something else.

“Your dad’s right,” she said gently. “The barn is better. For one thing, unless you clean their cage ten times a day, they’ll smell. Really bad.”

“I’ll clean it.”

“And they’re noisy. Raccoons are mostly nocturnal.”

“Nocturnal?”

“They sleep during the day and are awake at night. They’ll keep you up and everyone else in the house.”

“I’ll sleep during the day.” Lyndsey put the kit back into the crate. He and his brother immediately began play fighting, tussling and growling at each other.

“Sweetie,” Sam said, his patience showing signs of wearing thin, “you can’t.”

Annie had anticipated Lyndsey’s objection even before her father finished speaking.

“Why!” She sprang to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not in school or summer camp.” She wrenched away when he reached for her. “You won’t let me do anything.”

Annie should just shut up. She had more than enough of her own problems to deal with without involving herself in Sam’s. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself.

“You could sleep out here with the kits.”

Lyndsey stopped and gaped first at Annie, then Sam. “Can I, Daddy?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have a cot, for one thing.”

“Lay a tarp down next to the cage,” Annie suggested. “Put a sleeping bag or some blankets on top of it.”

“I don’t want Lyndsey sleeping in the barn. It’s not safe.” His tone implied Annie might be interfering.

She should quit while she was ahead. Only, she didn’t. “You could sleep out here with her.”

Lyndsey jumped up. “Please, Daddy?”

“We’ll see.” He was clearly not enthused.

“Thank you, thank you.” Lyndsey took his hedging as a yes and hugged him hard, pressing her face into his shirtfront.

He hugged her in return, his hand splayed protectively across her small back. The tender exchange charmed Annie.

Damn Sam. He was always getting to her. And now he’d added his cute, sweet and obviously wounded daughter to his arsenal.

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get the cage set up.” Annie kept her voice matter-of-fact.

The three of them worked for the next twenty minutes, during which time Annie continued instructing Lyndsey on baby raccoon care. They covered such topics as water for drinking and bathing, diet—the kits would benefit from natural foods like fruit and nuts—and how best to clean the cage without them escaping.

Lyndsey was an apt student, but Annie was aware that Sam spent more time watching her than the kits, causing the back of her neck to heat uncomfortably beneath her uniform collar. Was he still annoyed at her for suggesting he and Lyndsey sleep in the barn?

“I have to run,” she said when the cage was secured atop some wooden blocks and fully equipped with everything the kits would need, including an old stuffed toy of Nessa’s that Annie found in the SUV.

Lyndsey flung herself at Annie, and she instinctively held the girl. Sam was a lucky man. She only hoped he realized it.

“Thanks for everything,” he said. Without asking, he accompanied her outside.

“It’s the least I can do. By some miracle those kits survived when few other animals in these woods have.”

“You really think Lyndsey will be okay in the barn?”

“Look, I shouldn’t have said anything earlier. It wasn’t my place.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Honestly, I’ll be surprised if she lasts the entire night. She’ll probably wake you up about midnight, wanting to go inside.”

“Don’t tell me. You’ve spent the night with baby raccoons before.” Amusement lit his eyes.

“Guilty. I was just like Lyndsey and didn’t take my mother’s advice.” She paused at the SUV’s door. “Can I make another suggestion without overstepping?”

“Sure.” He leaned against the hood, crossing his arms and one boot over the other in a sexy stance that was very reminiscent of their younger days.

There’d been a time when she would have leaned against the hood beside him, assuming her own sexy stance.

“Buy Lyndsey a book on raising kits,” she said, focusing her attention on the barn. Anywhere but on Sam.

“Do they sell those in the feed store?”

“If not, order one online or print out articles from the internet.”

“I don’t know.” His brow furrowed. “She’s getting pretty attached to the critters as it is. Learning more about them might make it harder to give them up.”

“Or easier. But that’s not the point.”

He gazed at her with interest. “What is?”

And here she was giving him credit for trying to be an attentive father. “If you have to ask, there’s no use in me explaining.”

“I’m a bit denser than most.”

She huffed. “Spending time with your daughter. Supporting her interests.”

“Like I used to do with yours.”

His grin disarmed her for several seconds, during which a pickup truck and trailer pulled onto the grounds and made its way toward the corrals. Annie recognized the rig and the driver. She also noticed a group of horses she’d missed earlier, milling about in the corral.

“You bought High Country Outfitters’ string.”

Sam nodded, clearly pleased. “I’m also having Lyndsey’s old pony and a few other seasoned work horses from California shipped out.”

“That ought to get you started.”

He didn’t make a move to help Will unload the new arrivals. Then again, Will didn’t require help.

“I hired Will, too. Oh, and Irma Swichtenberg.”

“You hired our housekeeper?” Annie spun so fast the open SUV door caught her in the back.

“Your mother sent her by.”

“My mother!” It couldn’t be true. Sam was mistaken. “Why would she do that?”

“Irma needed a job.”

“She has one with us.”

“Even if you rebuild the inn, it’ll take months. Irma can’t wait that long.”

Annie heard only one thing. “If I rebuild the inn?”

“All right, when. But in the meantime, you have to be realistic. Irma needs to work. She has a lot of kids depending on her.”

“I am being realistic. I’m probably the most realistic person here.”

His brows formed a deep V. “And I’m not?”

“A guest ranch? Seriously? This town is dying a slow death. No one wants to come here and they won’t, not until the forest regrows. And that could take decades.”

“So, why rebuild the inn?”

Anger rushed in, filling the gaping hole left by his careless remark. “The Sweetheart Inn has been in my family for over fifty years. It’s the heart of Sweetheart.”

“I understand that.”

“I thought you did,” she retorted. “Now I’m not sure.”

“As soon as you’ve finished construction, you can hire her back.”

His conciliatory tone didn’t assuage her. “She’ll come, too. She’s loyal to us.”

“Nothing I’d like more than for you to rehire all your former employees.”

That threw her for a loop. “Aren’t you afraid of the competition?”

“No.”

His lack of concern only made Annie angrier. “Because you think we can’t do it.”

“Because there’s room in Sweetheart for two hospitality establishments. Besides—” his grin widened “—there isn’t anyone I’d rather be in competition with than you.”

He was absolutely infuriating.

She climbed in the SUV and drove away before he could disarm her yet again and undermine the really good mad she’d worked up.

* * *

“WHEN WAS THE deductible raised?”

“Last year, on your renewal.”

Annie stared at the policy summary page, the renewal date in the corner and the deductible amount referenced in bold. Everything the insurance adjuster said was true.

“Mom?”

Fiona didn’t reply. As usual, she was standing at the kitchen sink, gazing out the window—and had been during most of the meeting with the insurance adjuster. Sometimes, when asked a question, she’d answer. Sometimes not.