Winning Over the Rancher

by Mary Brady

  “I’ll be here by eight o’clock.” She managed not to say any of the insane things floating around in her head.

  Baylor snickered. “The crack of dawn every day?”

  “The sun’s up long before… Hey, you’d be surprised. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Eight o’clock it is. Have a good evening and sleep well.”

  “I will.” She left him in the office scrolling screens. If I learn how to stop dreaming, she thought.

  As they sped down the highway, she grinned, not because she was a senseless pregnant woman who could not control her libido, but because she had actually had a conversation with Baylor and had made no overt comments or even innuendo. She had wondered if she was still capable of such a thing.

  The crack of dawn every day?

  Wait, did he mean they would spend five days straight together?

  Fine. Whatever got the job done.

  THE WEATHER REMAINED her friend. Almost two weeks passed. She and Baylor lived through a week of settling details and even survived a trip to Missoula together.

  Nothing had changed except she was sure she had not one nerve left unfrazzled.

  A couple days of rain had washed away the dirt from the roads and melted the snow away. She had signed contracts with electrical and plumbing contractors. And praise be, Al Martin had laid the road and had prepared the cabin sites for the concrete pads.

  Two weeks before the Cut-Rate Airlines would be performed and twenty days before she was due to deliver her child the concrete was about to be poured.

  KayLee paced in front of the beds of gravel with the footings already solidly in place. Wooden frames would be filled and would be removed after the concrete hardened.

  Workers stood ready with tools as the gray concoction slushed in two portable mixers. Al Martin and the concrete contractor had been like mad scientists when they were adding cement, sand and water to the revolving tubs. And now they waited for just the right amount of time.

  A shadow fell over her right shoulder and she turned to see Baylor standing behind her. Her heart did its usual flop. She gave him a small smile and made herself watch as they began to pour the concrete into the waiting bed.

  Arms folded over the top of her stomach. “I feel like getting in there and helping myself.”

  Baylor didn’t say anything but she knew he heard her. The workers were all in a flurry, pushing, tamping and flattening the gray mass.

  “That would be quite a sight.” His words floated softly over her shoulder and she strained to collect every nuance.

  “Al would have a heart attack if I even looked cross-eyed at one of those tools.”

  “Al’s a good man.”

  And a good man will always do right by a woman. A Montana rule it seemed.

  “Hurry up,” Al called to one of the men who seemed to be playing with concrete like a kid with his mashed potatoes. “We don’t get a do-over here.”

  “I’ll be in the office when you’re ready to go over that list of materials.”

  Even over the hubbub created by the men and concrete, she heard his footsteps retreat.

  KayLee waited an honest ten minutes before she followed. The surface of the first concrete pad was smooth and shiny when she left and the men were adding the finishing touches.

  In less than a week’s time the wooden frames would start going up for the first two cabins. The project was ahead of schedule and she was feeling great about that part of her life.

  She let herself into the mudroom and cleaned off her shoes. Suddenly, she was nervous. Not about the doorknobs or how many data outlets were enough. Baylor was in the office and as often as she worked at his side, and as often as they pretended it was best that they be just friends, she could not find the strength to move on, to let him go.

  She stepped into the office and he glanced up at her.

  Yep, even though another week had passed this day would be no different.

  She knew she still couldn’t approach Abby’s request without losing her heart in the process.

  “How did the concrete pouring go?”

  “As well as you’d expect it to go. Al’s a good man, just like you said.”

  He studied her for what seemed like minutes, but was probably less than ten seconds. She studied back. There was nothing she could tell him that wouldn’t dig her in deeper, make her fall in love with him, if she already wasn’t.

  “I think you should take a break,” he said as she continued to study him intently. “Let’s not do this today.”

  She sighed and didn’t care if he saw. He smiled as if he knew he had made a correct guess.

  “Did your special beef arrive?”

  “Yesterday. Better late, you know. They’re in quarantine right now. Are you going to the ice cream social Sunday?”

  “What?” Her brain had trouble making the switch for a moment. Cora had mentioned the town’s first social gathering of the year. It was a way for all of them to keep in contact. They were far flung and the winter was long. This event would be held in the school. A later one as well as the town picnic would be in the town square. “No. I have too much to do.”

  “You should, KayLee.”

  “That’s what Ethel said.”

  “You’ll disappoint a lot of people. Would it help if I told you I wasn’t going?”

  She nodded as tears rose, and she took the red-and-white hankie she had so wisely kept in her pocket and dried her eyes.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KAYLEE PUT ON THE LAST touches of her makeup for the ice-cream social. It had been three weeks since the celebration at the Doyles’ house for Trey’s homecoming. The contract signing seemed like such a trivial thing to celebrate when compared to the health and welfare of a child.

  Child. KayLee examined her body’s profile in the mirror and rested a hand on her growing belly. She wondered, as she often did, how much bigger the child inside her was going to make her. “Not complaining, little one,” she said to her belly.

  Yesterday she had watched as the large trucks poured concrete from their revolving tanks. At last real progress had been made at the ranch. The weather had out-done itself for the last week, and had grown increasingly warm for the area. Construction of the wooden skeleton frames would begin as early as next week.

  But today she would attend her first ice-cream social.

  She packed up her leather bag with essentials and was ready to head out when her phone buzzed. The caller ID said Martin Homes. On Sunday?

  “This is KayLee Morgan,” she said.

  “Mrs. Morgan, this is Curly Martin.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Martin.” The old guy with the purple cast on his arm. Al Martin had said “the old coot” was his granddad. He was apparently trying all of Dr. DeVane’s cast colors. Third broken arm in two years.

  “Yep, call me Curly. Too many Mr. Martins in this valley.”

  “Yes, Curly. What can I do for you?”

  “My son asked me to call you. He needs you to come out to the Doyle ranch.”

  “Is tomorrow soon enough?”

  “He needs to…uh…see you now. I mean, he said you didn’t have to hurry or anythin’, he’d wait.”

  “Can it wait until after the ice-cream social?”

  “Awww, those things last for hours an’ he wants you to come soon. Somethin’ about the concrete crackin’ up or somethin’.”

  The concrete? Literally the foundation for the whole project? It couldn’t be.

  “Is Mr. Martin there now?”

  “He’s on his way and that’s why I’m callin’ you, ’cause his mobile won’t work well out on the highway. I don’t have much in the way of detail ’cept he wants you there soon. But safe.”

  “Thanks, I hear you, Curly. I’ll be there soon.”

  She thumbed off her phone. She could call the ranch, but she was the buck-stops-here person. If there was a problem she wanted to be on top of it now.

  She tried not to think too much and concentrated on gett
ing there. Had they failed to prepare the beds for the concrete pads properly? Did they pour the concrete too soon, was it too cold, was the mix wrong?

  She tried not to think too much and concentrated on driving. She also tried not to envision the disappointment on the Doyles’ faces that something had gone so awry.

  Who would be at the ranch? They should already be in town for the ice-cream social. Most of them should be. Curtis and Baylor might be there to meet her and Allen Martin would have called the concrete contractor.

  In short there might be a crowd to stand around and stare at her first big failure. She wouldn’t blame anyone else. It was she who had promised due diligence for the Doyles’ money.

  KayLee drove past the ranch house and out to the cabin area. The main house looked deserted. Hopefully, that meant most of them were in town. The new gravel road to the construction site was a solid bed and easy to drive on. As she approached the area where the concrete pads had been laid, there was no one there. Not Curtis, not Allen, no one, not even Baylor and she found herself disappointed he wasn’t there.

  She leaped out of her car—okay, fine, she didn’t leap…. She heaved herself out of her car, but in her mind she leaped. Then she hurried as fast as she could to the first slab of poured concrete. The pad was the correct shape and it was smooth. There were no cracks, bumps, heaves or other disruptions that weren’t supposed to be there. She raced to the second. She could see nothing wrong with this one, either.

  What was going on?

  She heard a vehicle’s engine and expected to see the Martin Homes dark blue pick-up truck. What she saw was the silver truck she had come to learn was Baylor’s personal vehicle, approaching rapidly.

  The truck skidded to a stop on the gravel surface of the road, Baylor jumped out and ran toward her.

  “Where is Allen Martin?” she called as he closed the gap between them.

  “What’s wrong?” Baylor’s demand was tinged with anger. He studied her from head to foot and then frowned.

  She had put her blue dress on for the social. Did it look that bad?

  “What’s going on, Baylor?”

  “Why did you tell Cora you were hurt and needed help?”

  “Okay, I’m going to gape at you here because I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t spoken to Cora since last night.”

  He looked full-on suspicious as she talked and aimed silent accusations directly at her as he stared unblinkingly.

  “Your eyes are so blue in this light.” She couldn’t help herself, didn’t care to.

  He closed the gap and took hold of her upper arms as if he intended to shake the truth out of her if he had to, but he still didn’t speak.

  “I haven’t spoken to Cora since she grilled me in detail…” she said as answers dawned “…about what we had gotten done out here yesterday. Concrete!”

  “What does Cora have to do with the concrete out here and why would she say you were hurt?”

  His eyes reflected all the blue in the Montana sky. “Curly Martin called me and said Al needed to meet me here because there was some sort of disaster with the—the—” All she wanted to do was climb up this man and start kissing from the top down. “Concrete?”

  She swallowed and kept her feet on the ground. In her condition, she didn’t think that climbing up anything would work very well anyway.

  “You’re sure you’re okay.”

  She swallowed again.

  “No.” She shook her head and then nodded. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”

  He let go of her and whipped around so fast, she lost her equilibrium for a moment, then righted herself quickly.

  “Is there anyone here at the ranch besides you and I?” she asked.

  He stopped. “Not that I could find.”

  “We’ve been had and very cleverly, I might add.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “Well, at least by Cora and Ethel and they somehow got Curly Martin in on their plan.”

  “Their plan to get us out here without chaperones?”

  “Precisely.”

  “It worked.”

  “I hope so, Baylor.” She took two quick steps closer to him. “Make love to me again. It won’t break my heart and I won’t try to keep you here.”

  “KayLee, I can’t protect you from this if you won’t let me.”

  “Baylor, I have to protect myself. If I don’t, I’ll always need someone there to bail me out.”

  She reached out to him.

  “We’re going to disappoint a lot of people if we don’t show up at the ice-cream social,” he said stiffly, but he didn’t back away.

  “We’re going to disappoint some if we do show up.”

  “So somebody’s going to end up disappointed either way.”

  “Yep, they are.” She reached a hand up to his cheek. “It might as well not be us.”

  “We are crazy if we do this.”

  The rough tone his voice had taken told KayLee she had won this round. He leaned in to kiss her sweetly on the mouth.

  “Yes, we are, and I’m afraid I’m not as easy to get close to as I was the last time.”

  When he smiled, there was smoke in his eyes. Before she knew what he was doing, he was tugging her hand. “Let’s go up to the house.”

  He led her into the main house and down the hall past the kitchen to the opposite end of the first floor. When they entered the room, she was surprised to see a small apartment with a sitting room and a kitchenette.

  “Impressive. Take me to your bedroom.”

  “Pushy.”

  “Horny.”

  When he kissed her she wanted to be immediately naked, to have him touch her all over, and then she was and he did.

  And she did him.

  Several times.

  “I might have to come to Denver once in a while to get me some of this,” she said as they lay in each other’s arms.

  “You’ll forget me when I’m gone.”

  “Yep, I’ll be too busy to think of you.”

  What sounded like footsteps on the stairs told them they might not be alone anymore. A tap on the door confirmed it.

  “It’s me and Amy. Trey got tired so we brought him home.”

  “How much time do we have?” Baylor called out.

  “Not enough. An hour. Forty-five minutes to be safe.”

  “Thanks, Seth.”

  “You betcha, bro.”

  “Cora, Ethel and Curly had a lot of accomplices,” KayLee said as Seth’s bootsteps faded.

  “We need to get you out of here,” Baylor told her.

  “I’ll go, but please, don’t shut me out from now on. I’ll be able to take it when you’re out of the valley, but knowing you’re so close and I can’t touch you, can’t even be friends with you, makes me crazy.” She kissed the spot behind his ear. “And it’s not nice to torture a pregnant woman.”

  “I try not to torture any women.”

  “I’m afraid you come by it naturally, sweetheart.”

  He dipped in and kissed her until she got up and crawled on top of him. “Don’t torture me one more time.”

  He groaned and pulled her down onto him. “Yep.”

  On her way back to town, she waved to the oncoming traffic. They probably all knew who she was, where she was coming from and what she’d been doing there, she might as well be friendly about it.

  And it was too late for ice cream.

  KAYLEE STOOD IN HER small pink-tiled bathroom and brushed her hair back into a ponytail. Several days had passed since she and Baylor had made love as if they intended to do it forever, as if they belonged together. Each day since, she had seen him or heard from him. Tomorrow when the framing for the cabins began, she would probably see him again, and break her heart again, too.

  She had gently admonished Cora and Ethel and let Curly buy her a cup of apology coffee, but she loved every one of them for what they had tried to do for her and Baylor.

  She tried not to think
of Baylor and heartbreak as she finished her make-up quickly and hurried to the gymnasium for play practice.

  “Ms. Morgan, we’re all set,” Lexie said as KayLee entered the gymnasium.

  “Look.” Becca pointed at the stage where a group of students struggled to hold the airplane together. The section of a plane’s fuselage with one side of the aircraft’s skin and interior wall missing sat nearby. With the exception of one unpainted section in the rear, it looked spectacular.

  “Wow. It’s come a long—”

  Just then the middle section of the bank of faux windows wobbled and flopped down over the seats. Laughter and squeals ensued, followed by scrambling and one “Sorry” from somewhere behind the fallen scenery.

  “Well,” Lexie said from beside her, “it isn’t fastened together yet, but you get the idea.”

  “It looks great!” KayLee shouted and clapped for the group up on stage who worked so hard conceptualizing, drawing, sawing, painting, hammering and all that went into making the mock airplane cabin. Then she turned to the actors who were awaiting direction. “Set up the chairs and let’s see how things are progressing.”

  Lexie took off like a shot and started gathering people. They lined up the chairs as if they were plane seats. Four were line up separate from the others. These were for the cockpit crew.

  Becca and Peter took their seats in pilot and copilot chairs. The other two chairs in the cockpit always remained conspicuously empty. It was Cut-Rate Airlines after all.

  A tall woman with short graying hair approached from the doorway. “Hi, Mrs. Pierre,” KayLee called to the woman.

  “How are things going, Ms. Morgan? They look like such a ragtag bunch.”

  KayLee wanted to jump to the kids’ defense, but she knew their appointed overseer didn’t mean any harm.

  “They have their costumes.” KayLee pointed to the every-color-in-the-world pile of shirts. She tried not to wonder what Mrs. Pierre’s face would look like if that pile was a heap of tiny bikinis.

  The costumes, such as they were, got a nod of approval from Mrs. Pierre.

  “Good. Let me know if you need anything.” The tall woman walked quickly away and disappeared into the hallway.