Читать книгу Wrangling The Rancher - Jeannie Watt - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

TAYLOR DIDN’T KNOW what to think when she got back into her car. The guy didn’t seem like a criminal, but he also wasn’t giving her much to work with as far as making judgments about him. Even though he was a self-proclaimed farmer, she’d bet money that he’d worked in a people-related field in the past. And he was ridiculously good-looking. His face was all angles and hollows, and she was fairly certain if he smiled, he’d have some decent creases down his cheeks. Dark hair, light green eyes...a lot to like there. Physically. Having worked with her fair share of attractive guys who turned out to be control freaks and douchebags, she no longer judged the book by the cover. A pretty face didn’t mean the guy wasn’t taking advantage of Karl. She’d ask her grandfather a few more questions once she got to Dillon.

And then she’d sleep. Night was her time, but it had been a long, rainy drive and she was exhausted. She hoped Karl had a spare room so she could crash.

As it turned out, there was no spare room in either place. Her grandfather and great-aunt shared a small duplex—two one bedroom apartments separated by a garage. Elise’s side was crammed with bric-a-brac, pillows, afghans and all manner of comfortable, cushy things, while on Karl’s side furniture was scarce, consisting of a secondhand dinette set, one leather recliner and a hundred-year-old sofa that he proclaimed to be “just fine.” And it was, if you didn’t mind sinking to the floor when you sat down. Taylor had a feeling that her grandfather didn’t much care—he had his recliner and very few visitors, since his friends all lived in the Eagle Valley.

After visiting with Elise, Taylor and her grandfather went through the connecting garage to his side of the duplex. Taylor took the cup of tea he brewed, then made the mistake of sitting on the sofa. She sank low and her knees felt like they were close to her chin. There was no end table to put her cup on, so she was stuck sitting there until she either finished her tea or asked her grandfather for help. She decided to finish her tea. Karl settled in his recliner, and if he noticed her discomfort, he said nothing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said. “I was in a work frenzy from Christmas until two months ago—”

“And then you got fired.”

“Laid off, Grandpa.” She stared down into her tea. Laid off. Let go. It was the same as being terminated but didn’t carry quite as much stigma. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“After working those crazy hours, I imagine not.”

“Yeah.”

“So now what, Tay?”

“I’ve been looking for work in Seattle, and it seems that everyone is tightening their belts.”

“Have you looked elsewhere?”

“The Bay Area, Portland. Spokane.” But it was going to be expensive to relocate.

“Nothing?” He gave her a look that made her feel as if she needed to say something to convince him that she wasn’t slacking. Or maybe to convince herself she wasn’t slacking.

“Not even an interview. The most I’ve gotten is ‘we’ll keep your name on file.’” She took a sip of tea and managed not to choke. Her grandfather made tea the way other people made coffee. “I just need to be patient. Times are tough, but I know if I persevere, I’ll nail something down.” Another small sip, because small was all she could handle. “Something even better than what I had.”

“And for now?” Her grandfather gave her a shrewd look. “Because it appears that this might take some time.”

Taylor balanced her cup on her knee. “Yes. About that...if I don’t get an infusion of cash soon, I’ll lose my apartment.”

“I can see that happening,” Karl agreed, which was not the response she’d expected.

“I was on a waiting list for almost two years to get into that building.” Downtown, close to the Wharf. She loved it so much—she felt a rush of gratefulness every time she looked out over the city and the Sound from her bedroom window—and since there was only one bedroom, a roommate wasn’t possible.

“Things change, Tay.”

Things change? Yes, they did, but if one was resourceful, they didn’t have to change too much.

“I don’t want to lose my apartment, and I don’t want to drain my savings keeping it.”

“What about your car?”

“I can’t get out of it what I put into it, but yes, I will sell it...if I have to.”

Karl leaned forward in his chair. “What do you want, Taylor? From me, I mean.”

She felt her cheeks go warm. He was gently chiding her. They’d been super close at one time, and he’d always been her biggest cheerleader. But when she went to work for Stratford, she’d started logging the crazy hours, living a crazy life. When she wasn’t working or trying to cram some relaxation in—which was almost as exhausting as working—she was sleeping. She’d meant to call, truly she had.

But she hadn’t.

“The money you lent me to go to school?” Which she’d paid back in full over a year ago. “Could I borrow it again?”

Her grandfather’s mouth tightened, and the fact that he didn’t instantly say yes made her stomach knot up. “I put it into some long-term funds. If I pull it out now, I’m going to lose money.”

Taylor’s heart sank. It was his money, of course, but...honestly? She’d figured borrowing the money back would be a slam dunk and mutually beneficial. Karl would get interest. She’d get a safety net, which, properly managed, would help her if she took one of many much-lower-paying jobs she’d been looking at to tide her over.

Damn, damn, damn.

She tried to work up a smile but had a feeling it looked kind of sick, because she felt kind of sick. “I understand. And...this isn’t the only reason I’m here.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to tell you that I was a loser.”

“Everyone loses, Tay.”

Not her. Not often, at least, and never in such a huge way.

“I guess.” She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t stomach any more of the strong tea, which meant she was stuck on the sofa forever or until Karl relieved her of the cup.

She looked at her grandfather then and wondered, judging from the way he was looking at her, if he wanted her trapped there.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you’re welcome to live on the farm if you want and look for a job locally to tide you over. I’d invite you to live here, but I don’t have much room.”

That was an understatement. His house had one bedroom, one bath, a tiny kitchen and a living room. It was truly a single-person house.

“I...uh...” Would hate so much to lose my place. The apartment was even more of a symbol of what she’d accomplished than her car. And her mother was so ridiculously proud of her. “I appreciate it, Grandpa. But what about that guy living there?”

“There’s always the bunkhouse.”

“It needs work.”

“You’re resourceful.”

“Me?” Taylor almost spilled her tea. And she felt ridiculously betrayed. “But—”

“He’s paid a month’s rent on the house. It wouldn’t be right to ask him to move midmonth.”

“Just one month?”

“I’m keeping my options open, so we have a month-to-month deal.” He glanced through the window at his sister’s place next door. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Elise is doing better, but she hates being alone.”

“How long has he been on the farm?”

Her grandfather did a mental calculation. “Two weeks yesterday.”

Which meant his month in the house was already halfway over. That made Taylor feel better. To a degree.

Move to the farm...? As much as she appreciated the offer, it was a crazy idea. More than that, it was demoralizing.

“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.”

“Quit.”

“And then you’ll pay for my living expenses at college, right?” Jancey had taken a year off after graduating from high school to save money for college. Cole would bet that she was counting the days until she could escape the ranch.

“I would if I could.”

“I know. But beyond needing this job, I don’t want to let her win.”

“Are you insinuating I did?”

“No. Even if that had been your intention, it didn’t work. She is still doing a slow burn over you quitting, and the beautiful part is that she can’t find anyone competent to replace you.”

Because no one else had enough emotional ties to the place to put up with her poor management style. Cole knew she’d already hired and fired a replacement and had tried out another, only to decide he didn’t fit the bill either.

“I bet she’d make some concessions if you came back...”

“Would you wish that on me?”

“No. But I hate losing the last family on the family ranch.”

“Things change, Jancey. All we can do is forge on ahead, make a new path.”

“You’re very philosophical today.”

“I’m trying to distract you so that you don’t do Miranda bodily harm. School is what? A short four months away?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Call anytime you need talking down,” Cole said. “And if things get to the point that you can’t take it anymore, this place has two bedrooms.”

“If you get a knock on your door late at night, it’ll be me.”

“It’ll be open. Just make yourself at home.”

Cole hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket. The only bad thing about leaving the guest ranch was that he was no longer there to put out the fires Miranda caused. He was so totally ready to be a farmer, ride in his tractor and ignore the world.

That might be a little harder to do if Karl’s granddaughter moved into the bunkhouse, but even if she did, he didn’t see her lasting too long. Women who drove classic 240Zs didn’t live in old bunkhouses. She’d find another place to live, and if she didn’t, well, at least he had years of experience dealing with the privileged.