A Rancher's Heart

by Vivian Arend

  She stopped and waited because Kelli was no longer at her side but frozen in position a few steps back, her jaw hanging open. “Ginny’s room is in the basement. Seriously? You’re in the master?”

  Dammit all, that means she had kicked Caleb out of his room. “I guess Caleb must’ve given it up so I could have a private bathroom.”

  In a strangely unlike-her gesture, Kelli looked everywhere but at Tamara as if she were considering hard before speaking, her face contorted with pain before her obvious attempt at maintaining control failed. “Caleb sleeps next to his office. And Ginny refused to move into the master bedroom because she said the lingering scent of brimstone kept her awake.”

  Okaaaay. It seemed there was a whole lot more baggage tied up in this situation than Tamara had expected. “I don’t know that I want you to explain any of that to me.”

  “Which is code for you’re curious as get out, but you’re going to be polite and not go asking for all the dirt your first day on the job?”

  “Pretty much,” Tamara admitted.

  “You’re right. We’re going to get along just fine,” Kelli said with a grin, patting Tamara on the shoulder as she left her at the edge of the parking area. “Those kids deserve a hell of a lot better than they got when it came to their mama, but Caleb is a mighty sweet daddy. That’s all the gossip you’ll get from me for now.”

  Which was more than enough. “I’ll see you after lunch tomorrow?”

  “If no one’s eating at the house, come join me and I’ll introduce you to JP. Then we can ride for a while.”

  Tamara spent the next hour and a half getting everything ready for the evening. She wasn’t a fancy cook, but she knew how to make tasty enough meals that would stick to the ribs and should still interest the girls.

  Speaking of which—she made a batch of cookies. No reason she shouldn’t sweeten the pot at the start of the getting to know you business. Especially since she intended on rocking the boat a lot sooner than they probably expected.

  Dan grinned at her as he opened the bus door, the dogs who’d found their way over to sit with Tamara barking excitedly as they waited for Sasha and Emma to descend. “Hello, new nanny Tamara. Welcome to Heart Falls. You have a good day?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she responded simply. “Have a great afternoon.”

  Sasha stormed past, Emma taking the steps more cautiously.

  Tamara turned her attention to Emma. “Your backpack looks absolutely full. Would you like me to help carry it?”

  Emma was shrugging out of the straps when Sasha came barreling back.

  “Come on, Em. I need to show you something.” She caught her sister by the hand and dragged her forward.

  Emma glanced over her shoulder at Tamara, but she didn’t tell Sasha to stop.

  Tamara walked behind them as they stopped running not even ten paces away from her, Sasha speaking at high speed again. Everything about the situation made Tamara twitch, and she debated if her gut reaction was going to get her in trouble.

  Probably, but who was she kidding? She could set all the goals for self-improvement she wanted, but right here and right now, she had to stick to her first instincts. She wasn’t going to let anyone push around the kids who were her responsibility.

  Not even each other.

  The girls disappeared into their rooms, backpacks abandoned in the hallway. Tamara picked the bags up and carried them into the kitchen, dropping them on the island. Then she leaned against the counter and waited.

  Sure enough it wasn’t long before they both came storming into the room, the same way she and her two sisters, Karen and Lisa, used to after getting off the school bus, starving.

  “Okay, guys.” Tamara brushed her hands as if preparing for action. “We don’t have a real calendar yet, so I put up a piece of paper on the fridge. We’ll write down anything that comes home from school that we need to worry about. If you want to empty your backpacks we can make sure that we’ve got anything new—”

  “Daddy has a calendar,” Sasha interrupted.

  “He does,” Tamara agreed. “And it’s got everything he needs for all the Silver Stone things, and I’m sure it’s got a whole bunch of your school stuff until now, but this is one of my jobs. Like your daddy said, I’m here to make sure you don’t miss anything fun because it’s not up on the calendar.”

  Instead of reaching for her backpack, Sasha folded her arms over her chest.

  So. The battle was engaged.

  Tamara turned to Emma. “If you empty your—”

  “Emma doesn’t want to empty her bag either.”

  Tamara raised a brow. “I wasn’t asking you.”

  Sasha’s voice rose in volume. “Emma doesn’t talk. I talk for her, and she doesn’t want to empty her backpack. And she doesn’t want you to write anything on the calendar, and she doesn’t want a nanny. Neither of us do.”

  “Well. Thank you very much for sharing your opinion. Now you need to wait your turn because I’m talking to Emma.” Tamara turned her back on Sasha and focused on the little blonde-haired darling who was chewing madly on her lower lip. Where Sasha had gone louder, Tamara spoke with quiet authority.

  “You’re a very smart little girl, and if you don’t want to talk out loud, I figure that’s your business. But that means when somebody asks you a question, or you want to tell another person something, you have to use the smarts you have up here”—Tamara tapped a finger against her forehead—“and make it clear what you’d like. You can write a note. You can draw a picture. You can act it out, but I’ll warn you I have never been good at charades, so that one might take a long time.”

  Emma folded her arms over her chest, lower lip sticking out in a frustration, and for a split second she and Sasha looked like mirror statues. Stubborn, not very happy statues.

  “Emma doesn’t like being bossed around—”

  Tamara snapped a hand toward Sasha. “Please don’t interrupt. Your sister and I are having a conversation.”

  Sasha’s jaw dropped in shock, giving Tamara just enough time to pick up where she left off, looking Emma in the eye. “Your sister is lovely, but she’s not you. If you want her to answer for you, tell her that. Poke her, throw something at her, use sign language. I don’t care how, but when I’m around she’s not allowed to simply talk for you unless you tell her she can.”

  Sasha bristled. “I know what she wants.”

  “You just interrupted again,” Tamara pointed out. “But fine. Let’s talk about that. I’m sure you do know what Emma wants—sometimes. Maybe even most of the time.” Tamara eyed Emma and crossed her fingers, hoping for the best. “All the time? Does Sasha get it right all the time? Does she always know what you would ask for? What you’d like to eat, or what you’d like to be for Halloween?”

  A slow reluctant shake of blonde curls followed.

  Thank goodness for truthful little girls.

  Tamara raised a brow at Sasha, speaking even softer. “You need to be more polite to your sister, and not assume as much. I know you love her, and I know you’re just trying to help. I have zero problem with you delivering the message if Emma asks you to, and I don’t care if she uses telepathy to ask.”

  Sasha’s face wrinkled in confusion, but she refused to ask what that meant.

  Fine—Tamara had never believed in pandering. “Starts like telephone, turns into the word path with a y at the end. Look it up.”

  She ignored them for a moment and turned to the counter, bringing forward the cookies she’d made earlier and glasses of milk. “Hungry? Want a snack before you empty your backpacks then get started on your homework?”

  This was the moment where it could all go wrong. Emma reached for a cookie with one hand and a glass of milk with her other.

  Sasha…

  Her lower lip trembled for a second before her entire face contorted. She folded her arms on the countertop, buried her face in the crook of an elbow, and began crying at the top of her lungs.

  It was pretty impr
essive.

  Only this wasn’t the first temper tantrum Tamara had seen—she’d spent a lot of time on the children’s ward at the hospital and had seen crying and upset tears for far better reasons than having the law laid down.

  Which is why it was fairly easy to ignore the fuss and reach for a cookie. She enjoyed the sweet treat as Emma glanced back and forth between the two of them, her eyes growing wider and wider as Tamara did nothing to try to settle the shrieking Sasha.

  Tamara wiped her mouth daintily before speaking to Emma. “She’ll be okay. She’s just feeling a little emotional. Do you want me to help you with your backpack?”

  Emma took another nibble from her cookie as Sasha wailed even louder. Finally, with amazing fortitude, she patted her sister on the back then pushed her schoolwork towards Tamara, freeing both hands for her glass of milk.

  So be it. They might go deaf, but Tamara figured this was an acceptable first step in the nanny process. She popped the rest of her cookie into her mouth and did the next thing.

  Chapter Six

  Caleb had intended to be home when the girls got off the bus, but he’d arrived a couple minutes late, which meant he walked into the house in time to hear Sasha burst into tears.

  He knew his daughter well enough to recognize the sound as crocodile tears and nothing more serious, but there was still that initial sense of utter failure.

  This wasn’t what he wanted for them. With all the changes over the past two months—and hell, the years before—their little worlds were out of control. Having to deal with the unknown was tough at his age, let alone theirs.

  He stopped in the hallway, peeking into the kitchen without showing himself. In the first two-second glimpse he caught the emotions sliding over Tamara’s face. Sadness, confusion—he got that one. Sasha was not an easy person to deal with. The only thing he didn’t see was frustration, so he hung back and waited another moment.

  Tamara placed both hands on the island, talking a deep breath as she observed Sasha with that hint of sadness in her eyes. Glancing at Emma she offered a sympathetic headshake, but she didn’t try to go over and hug Sasha or anything.

  Then she ignored Sasha and moved to Emma’s side.

  “One message about a field trip. I’ll put it on the calendar.” Tamara placed the open homework book in front of his younger daughter. “Oh lovely—spelling words.”

  Emma stuck out her tongue.

  Tamara chuckled and patted Emma on the shoulder. “Yeah, me too, kiddo. But if you’re going to write notes, you’d better be able to spell. How about you start? We’ll give Sasha another minute.”

  Caleb leaned against the hallway wall and watched as Tamara worked on something at the stove, coming back every now and then to check on Emma. Throughout it all, Sasha continued to cry, big, dramatic gasps worthy of an Academy award. Softer, then louder again when she realized she wasn’t getting any attention.

  Tamara disregarded the performance other than to grab a box of tissues off the side counter and plop it next to Sasha’s elbow.

  By this time Emma was giving her sister the evil eye, but she also ignored the caterwauling with incredible patience.

  They were more tolerant than him. Caleb’s nerve endings were raw from the shrieking. He stepped forward and cleared his throat, making sure he was loud enough to give a warning before he walked into the room.

  Tamara spotted him, and between her jerk of surprise and his noisemaking, it was enough Sasha glanced over her shoulder—

  Miracle of miracles, the tears shut off as if she’d turned a valve. She grabbed a handful of tissues as she hurriedly reached for her backpack and began pulling things from it, all the time keeping her face turned away.

  Tamara watched warily, but Emma slipped off her chair and ran to greet him like usual, stopping inches away before wrinkling her nose then for emphasis, pinching it closed.

  “Yes, button, I’ve been doing stinky things, and I’m not done work for the day. I just thought I would stop in and say hello.” He glanced at the island. “Are those cookies? I might have to steal a couple.”

  Emma kissed her fingertips then pressed them against his lips before running to the counter and climbing up to grab a glass.

  She held it out to him.

  “I’d love some milk. How do you eat cookies without a glass of milk?”

  “Cookies without milk are illegal,” Tamara agreed. “Sasha, would you please pour for your daddy?”

  Sasha got off her stool quickly, grabbing the milk from the fridge and going to work to fill the glass Emma left on the counter. She paused to get rid of her tissues before turning to him, all evidence of her tears wiped clean and a beautiful smile in place. “We’re having a snack before doing our homework.”

  Caleb nodded. “I see. Sounds like a great plan. And yum. Cookies—not something we get every day.”

  Emma apparently approved as she had two clutched in one fist and a pencil in the other. She’d pulled out a piece of paper and was drawing a picture.

  “Are those your spelling words?” Tamara asked.

  Her little shoulders rose before Emma let out an enormous sigh and slid the paper under her notebook, returning to the dreaded assignment.

  It wasn’t appropriate to laugh at either of his children. He exchanged a glance with Tamara, thankful he didn’t have to say a word. She’d picked up on his amusement, a hint of a smile twisting the corners of her lips.

  He stood and enjoyed his cookie as Sasha told him a random set of information including what she’d done in gym class, that someone in second grade had a birthday soon, and that the pillow on her bed was lumpy.

  The cold milk rinsed down the sweetness of the cookie perfectly, and since world war three seemed to have been averted, he took his leave.

  “Be good,” Caleb warned, pressing a kiss to Sasha’s head after leaving his glass in the sink.

  “Always,” she said without a blink.

  God, he was in so much trouble down the road.

  He returned to the barn, thinking hard as he went. He’d have to spend a little extra time making sure the girls were comfortable, but he wasn’t about to let them chase Tamara away. He couldn’t continue on his own. From what he’d seen so far, Tamara was just the type of person he’d hoped for in his daughter’s lives—firm and yet with a sense of humour.

  He was still somewhat distracted as he wandered through the doors and nearly walked into Ashton.

  The foreman put up a hand to stop them from bumping. “Open your eyes, lad. I’ve no desire to be bounced to the ground.”

  “Sorry, Ashton,” Caleb said. “You’re usually a much bigger target. You don’t have a horse beside you.”

  “Your brothers aim to put me out of a job,” Ashton complained before proving his grumbling was all a show. “It’s good to have Walker back. I might let him take over working with Dewdrop, if you don’t mind.”

  Caleb shrugged. “You know the animals best, you and Luke. But I thought we’d sold her.”

  Ashton made a rude noise. “Luke offered to sell, but no way was I letting her go to that woman.”

  Caleb hid his smile. There was only one female their foreman referred to as that woman. Ashton and Sonora were involved in a long-standing feud.

  Feud, or something else? Not that Ashton would ever admit it, but Caleb was pretty sure the man was sweet on the woman who lived a couple of range roads over from their homestead.

  “That’s not very nice,” he chided. “Luke said he’d sell the animal. We’re going to get a bad reputation if you go back on our word.”

  Ashton grumbled for a moment before lifting his face sheepishly. “I gave her a different horse,” he admitted. “She didn’t need something young and wild, she needed something steady and reliable, so I let her have Sampson.”

  Caleb glanced away because there was no way he could stop from grinning this time. The man was a sentimental fool. Sampson was probably worth twice as much as the unruly young filly, at least in the short term.<
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  Ashton seemed to sense what Caleb wasn’t saying. He let out a gruff noise. “I know, but it’d be a shame to hear she’d broken her neck trying to ride a horse that was too much for her.”

  “I agree,” Caleb said. “Who’d you fight with at Ginny’s annual barbecue if Ms. Sonora was no longer around?”

  Ashton gave him a dirty look. “Don’t you sass me, young man, I can still turn you over my knee—” He eyed Caleb before shaking his head. “File that. I can still make your life hell, but I’m not putting my back out trying to wrestle any of you monsters to the ground.”

  “Good choice,” Caleb said before slapping Ashton on the shoulder then heading through the barn and into the arena. The momentary distraction from worrying about his girls was welcome, and when he found his brothers working with the newest horses, he stopped and watched contentedly for a moment.

  Their display of skill was undeniable. Even Dustin had the potential to grow into a great horseman.

  Caleb stood with a foot up on the railing as the boys rode smoothly around the arena, taking turns watching each other and analyzing their moves. Adjusting gaits and soothing restless beasts.

  Walker spotted him and waved a hand, using his knees to guide his horse to where Caleb waited. “Want to join us? We’re going to work for another couple of hours then go into town to Longhorn’s steakhouse for dinner.”

  “I’ll help, but take a rain check on the steaks.” Although he was sorely tempted. The opportunity to catch up with Walker was just that, a temptation. “I need to stick close to home the next few of days. Give the girls a chance to get used to having Tamara around.”

  Luke was there as well, sitting tall in the saddle as he listened to Caleb’s final comments. “It’ll be good when she’s settled. I know you want to be around for your kids, but you need time to yourself as well.” He grinned across at Walker, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Might have to take him out on the town and see if he still remembers what to do with a woman.”

  “Shut up,” Caleb said dryly.

  “That’s right, Luke. Don’t be rude.” Walker waggled a finger at their brother. “You know it’s not that he’s forgotten, it’s just it’s been so long he might end up being a trifle quick on the trigger.”