Bailey looked every one of them in the eyes—god, the hope she saw was hard to ignore—but she counted to twenty before she spoke. “When I suggested your kids needed boot camp, I wasn’t volunteering to run it.”
“Of course we wouldn’t expect you to volunteer,” Janie said. “We’d pay you.”
“That’s not the point I was trying to make.”
“So this ain’t about money?” Streeter said skeptically.
“I’m not in Wyoming to find work for the summer,” she retorted. “I’m here to help my sister.” And to decide a few things about my future—not that she was prepared to share that.
Harper moved behind the counter—moved in for the kill, most likely. “It’d be a huge help to me and Bran if we had one day out of the week that we weren’t passing each other on the road as we’re juggling childcare schedules. One day where we could just stay home knowing the boys had something fun and cool to do that is making them better-behaved humans.” Then she pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. “I’ve watched you the past two weeks. I know you’d love a chance to whip Tate, Jake and Gage into shape. They want to be like you. You’ve heard them say that.”
Oh, you suck, sis.
“In addition to your nephews, you’d have my boys, Tyler and Dylan, and their cousins Brianna, Cody and Jason—who were all there today.”
Like that was supposed to be an incentive?
“Plus our two, Isabelle and Rhett, who could use a dose of discipline,” Renner added.
Then Bailey’s gaze connected with Streeter’s.
The muscle in his strong jaw flexed before he spoke, as if the words were hard to get out. “I don’t know if you’re what Olivia needs, but I’m willin’ to give it a shot.”
She did a quick count in her head. “That’s eleven kids versus one adult.”
“Versus. You’re so funny. Technically it’s ten kids, since Brianna would be a helper,” Janie said. “According to the state childcare rules you can have up to twelve kids supervised by one adult. And keep in mind it’s only one day a week.”
“What day?”
“Fridays.”
“Who’d decide the curriculum?”
“Entirely up to you since you’re the boot camp expert.”
A million thoughts went through Bailey’s head—few of them positive.
Renner leaned in. “What would it take to sweeten the deal, Sergeant? Unlimited horseback ridin’? Free meals? Complimentary drinks?”
“How about a quiet place to hear myself think?” she half muttered.
Shit. She shouldn’t have said that out loud. She sent Harper a guilty look.
“My place is a madhouse. I get it. I didn’t blame you for needing an escape last weekend. I know you’re used to living alone, and I also know you didn’t plan on being here for the whole summer. I understand that you’d need your own space, especially if you’re also helping me out in the store.”
“Well, getting you a place to think is an easy fix. There’s an empty trailer I’d let you stay in if you’re workin’ for Harper.”
She looked at Renner. “Seriously? Even if I’m very part-time?”
“Yep. Provided you agree to run the kids’ boot camp. Housing is a perk for all Split Rock employees—even seasonal workers.” He elbowed Streeter. “Ain’t that right?”
It took Streeter a moment to respond. “Only if you’re truly lookin’ for a quiet place, because we don’t put up with wild parties.”
Bailey could’ve ignored Streeter’s challenging—and totally fake—smile. Instead, she matched his insincere grin with one of her own. “Understood. And I don’t need to worry that your daughter will be running around unattended disturbing your neighbors’ quiet time and stealing candy?”
Those green eyes narrowed.
Harper clapped her hands. “It would be such a blessing not to have to be here at nine a.m. to open the store every day now that the boys are out of school and Penelope can’t be here until noon.”
It had been especially chaotic the past week in the Turner household. And maybe as much as Harper appreciated Bailey’s help, having her sister living with them all summer would get tiresome for them too. “I have meetings in Casper and it would be easier not to have to drive an extra two hours back to the ranch each time,” Bailey admitted.
“Good. Then it’s decided,” Janie said. “You’ll start the boot camp next Friday. That’ll give you time to come up with a plan and to get settled in your trailer. Swing by the office before you leave today and we’ll get the paperwork sorted, okay?”
Bailey said, “Okay,” despite her reservations.
After Renner, Janie and Streeter left, Harper faced her. “Did it seem like I was railroading you into that?”
“Maybe a little. I don’t feel like I’ll be as much help to you if I’m living here.” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “Are you sick of me staying with you?”
Harper’s eyes widened. “Goodness, no. Even if you’re not in the house with us, I’ll still get to see you and spend time with you for the rest of the summer, not just a couple of weeks. It’s been easy for me to forget that you’re young and single. You’d probably like to go out and do things and not get stuck hanging with an old married lady like me. This gives us both the best of both worlds.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. And just because you’ll have a place here doesn’t mean you can’t crash with us whenever you want. In fact, I hope you’ll still come and stay even after we get you settled.”
“So you’re not firing me as your temporary household help because I forgot to do the dishes last night?”
“You wish.” She bumped her hip. “Besides, you always forgot to do the dishes, nothing new there. But now . . . I can send the boys home with Aunt Bailey for the night and have some boom chicka wow wow with my man.”
Bailey rolled her eyes. “Nice try, but you heard that warning from green-eyed grumpy dude that I need to comply with the neighborhood watch. The hooligans hardly count as quiet.”
“True.”
“What’s the deal with that guy and his kid anyway?”
“Streeter?” She paused. “I don’t know him very well, to be honest.”
“How long has he worked here?”
“At least three and a half years.”
Split Rock was a microscopic community. How did Harper not know everything about him?
Before she could ask, Harper said, “Streeter used to job-share the ranch foreman position with his brother Tobin. But Tobin is working full-time in Casper, although he does help out sometimes. Bran and I know Tobin better than Streeter, but Streeter is a nice enough guy.” Harper glanced up from digging in her purse. “Why all the questions?”
Because the man is hot as fire and that prickly façade is like catnip to me.
Bailey managed a shrug. “Just curious since we’ll be neighbors and his daughter will be in boot camp. When I tried to catch her after she took the candy and asked where her mother was, she yelled that her mom was dead. Is that true?”
“Sadly, yes. She died when Olivia was just a baby. I don’t know the particulars. But that’s probably why he’s super protective of his daughter even when she’s a handful.”
“That’s probably why she’s a handful,” Bailey said.
“No doubt. I’d warn you to steer clear of him, but chances are he’ll steer clear of you first. Streeter keeps to himself like no one I’ve ever met.” She smirked. “Well, besides Bran. The Bran before he married me and we had a million kids.”
Bailey laughed.
“Speaking of . . . I need to grab the boys and get home to feed my girl.” Harper kissed her cheek. “After supper tonight we’ll load you up with housewares for your new place since all of your things are in storage.”
Chapter Four
Streeter hustled through his morning r
outine, hard as that was to do with Olivia along for the ride. He tidied up the trailer as she finished her lunch.
Today they were “interviewing” the new childcare provider. Interviewing being a loose term; as long as the woman hadn’t been in jail she was as good as hired.
“Daddy?”
He glanced over at his daughter, sitting at the table with the stack of books they’d checked out of the Casper library. “Yeah, punkin?”
“What does ‘w-a-r-l-o-c-k’ mean?”
He hung up the umbrella he’d found under the couch and walked over to her. “Show me the book.”
She flipped it to the front cover. Which Witch Has the Switch?
“I don’t remember you picking that one.”
“I liked the rhyme.”
“Ah. Well, let’s look up the word.” He pulled out his phone, swiped to the dictionary app and loaded it. Then he handed her the phone. “Type it in.”
Olivia used one finger to poke the keyboard. “Found it!” She passed the phone back to him.
“Warlock—a male witch. A wizard. A spellcaster.” He glanced up at her. “Is that what you thought it meant?”
She shook her head. “I thought it was a kind of lock.” She scowled. “That’s dumb. A male witch should be a mitch or a mizard since a woman witch starts with a ‘W.’”
The way her brain worked sometimes truly boggled his. “You have a point. Put your books away and wash up. We’ve gotta meet Meghan soon.”
Her feet started swinging beneath her chair—a sign her thoughts were spinning.
“Something wrong?”
“What if I don’t like her?”
“What if she becomes your favorite babysitter ever?” he countered.
“What if she locks me in my room?”
“What if she lets you play the drums as much as you want?”
Olivia blinked. “Really?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible. So how about we focus on the good and not the bad.”
She hopped off her chair. “Okay.” Then she gave him a quick hug—an oddity for her. She wasn’t prone to spontaneous affection unless she was in trouble.
Ten minutes later when they walked up to the main parking lot, Olivia didn’t hold his hand. He was used to it now. But when she’d first started to walk and she’d systematically denied his help at every turn, he’d taken it as judgment on his parenting skills. Olivia’s therapist had finally helped him understand that he wasn’t the cause of her detachment disorder. All he could do was show her love and hope she learned how to form attachments by example. Other people—including Olivia’s grandmother Deenie—took Olivia’s aloofness as a personal affront. Deenie tried to force her affections on Olivia and vice versa, which always resulted in Olivia screaming in exhaustion and Deenie in tears. It’d only been in the past year that Olivia had relaxed her singular attachment to him, which gave Olivia some autonomy and him some freedom.
He just hoped this Meghan person could handle Olivia’s indifference and her bouts of single-mindedness.
The Split Rock parking lot was mostly empty. A young woman with vivid pink hair exited a Honda and waited for them to come to her.
That awarded her some major points. Evidently she had read Olivia’s personality profile.
Streeter offered his hand. “Meghan?”
“Yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Hale.” She shook his hand briefly. “And this must be Olivia.”
“You’ve got pink hair,” Olivia said in a reverent tone.
Meghan smiled. “For now. I might change it to a different color next month.”
Olivia whirled on her dad. “Can I have pink hair too?”
Never. “We’ll talk about it later.” Then he addressed Meghan. “Follow the gravel road on the right down the hill until you reach a cluster of trailers. That’s where we’ll meet you.”
Olivia skipped happily beside him as they returned to the employee quarters.
After talking with Meghan and seeing her interacting with Olivia, Streeter felt comfortable enough to leave them together for a few hours.
He drove over to the barn to deal with paperwork he’d been putting off. But when he walked into the office he shared with Ted, he saw his young ranch-foreman-in-training poring over the binders that held the supply purchase orders from years past, checking them against something on the computer screen.
Ted glanced up when he heard Streeter’s bootsteps on the wood floor. He sent a nervous look to the open books and then to Streeter. “Hey, Street. Didn’t expect to see you here this afternoon.”
Obviously.
“Uh. What’s up?”
“Maybe I oughta ask you the same question?” He pointed to the books strewn across the desk. “Searchin’ for something in particular?”
“Actually . . . yeah.” Ted scrubbed his hands over his face. “We’re runnin’ low on the Permectrin. I don’t see that livestock insecticide has been ordered for two years.”
“We haven’t needed it.” Streeter fought the urge to defend himself. “If you want me to order it, just leave me a note, Ted.”
He shook his head. “I need to know where to find the information so when it becomes my job, I’ll have an idea where to look. You ain’t always gonna be around to hold my hand.”
“Give a guy a chance to move up and the next thing ya know, boom—he’s muscling you outta the way.”
Ted blushed. “Not true.”
“Just givin’ you shit, kid. And I did the same thing when I started here. Except I had to ask my little brother to decipher his damn filing system. He had a great time messin’ with me, but I probably deserved it.”
“Tobin is awesome. You’re lucky you two get along so well. Me’n my older brother can’t hardly be in the same town without mixing it up.”
“Why? You guys keepin’ grudges from when you were kids?”
He shrugged. “He’s lazy. I recognized it early on, but my dad didn’t. Soon as we graduated me’n my best buddy Zack moved to Denver. We knew after we both finished trade school that we wouldn’t return to our hometown. My brother was pissed. He thought I’d come back and work even harder on the ranch to prove I’d been educated.” Ted shook his head. “Crazy bastard.”
“Sounds like my older brother.” He clapped Ted on the shoulder. “At least you were smarter to get out of that type of situation sooner than I did. How’s Zack handling the pressure of bein’ assistant chef?”
“He loves it. He’s learning a ton. Us working opposite schedules sucks. Seems we hardly ever see each other.”
Streeter envied Ted and Zack’s friendship. They lived together, worked together, spent their free time together. He’d never had a buddy he could rely on like that.
“So what are you doin’ here?” Ted asked.
“Killin’ time.” Yeah, it was pathetic he didn’t have anywhere else to go. “Thought I’d recheck supplies and update the work schedule.”
“Don’t hardly seem fair to you that I get most weekends off.”
“You’ll work your fair share of them when you’re the boss.” Streeter pointed at the computer. “You about finished?”
“Sure.” He closed his files and stood. “Pete asked if one of us could take the backup mower to the repair shop. He already called Moody so he’s aware of the problem, and he loaded the mower onto the trailer. Since I gotta go to Rawlins anyway, you want me to handle it?”
“That’d be great.”
As Ted reshelved the binders, he said, “Heard we’re getting a new neighbor today. Harper’s sister Bailey, who’s been workin’ at WWC.”
Streeter’s body tightened at the mere mention of the sergeant.
“Have you met her?”
“Yeah. She’ll be runnin’ the day camp. She’s warned us it’ll be a kid’s boot camp.”
“I don’t doubt that. She
’s got that back-off vibe down.” Ted turned and grinned. “She reminds me of you, Street.”
“Piss off, pup.”
He laughed. “See? A match made in heaven.”
Streeter fiddled with the mouse, rolling it over the mouse pad. It occurred to him that Ted was a good-looking guy. A nice guy too. “Bailey doesn’t seem much older than you. Maybe you’d be her perfect match.” He paused. “Any plans on askin’ her out?” Streeter glanced up to see an odd look cross Ted’s face.
“Nah. She ain’t my type. What did Olivia think of her?”
“Ask me after the first day of camp.”
“Will do.” Ted snagged a notebook off his desk. “See ya tomorrow.”
“Later.”
After Ted closed the door, Streeter flipped on the beat-up boom box that still functioned as a radio. Most people listened to music on their phones, but he rarely had the luxury of popping in a pair of earbuds and tuning out the world—either at work or at home. He preferred the radio, ads and all. Having music always playing in the background kept him from going crazy after Danica died. It’d seemed to soothe Olivia too.
Humming along to Dwight Yoakam’s song “Little Sister,” he got to work.
The timer on his phone went off and he noticed he’d worked for three hours without a break. He’d accomplished more than enough for one day. After locking up, he drove his truck to the other side of the resort. Might seem silly that he drove instead of walked, but he often had to go directly from the Split Rock Ranch to his brother’s place. He spent enough time in the fresh air that he didn’t need to hoof it back and forth between his trailer and the barn a few times a day.
Streeter parked his truck behind his SUV. Just as he was about to get out, a silver Toyota Highlander sped past, kicking up dust. The taillights flashed as the driver hit the brakes. Then the driver’s-side door opened and Sergeant Bailey Masterson hopped out, dark glossy brown hair atop her head in a high ponytail, mirrored shades covering her eyes.
The next thing he noticed were her legs. Her bare, muscular legs that seemed a mile long in those frayed and faded Daisy Dukes. She wore an army green tank top with ARMY STRONG emblazoned across the front and no bra.
Spun Out Page 4