Falling for the Rancher

by Roxanne Rustand

  “All the better. I understand Ed is the best craftsman in the bunch, and my late aunt’s cottage is in serious need of repairs. And I hear his wife sends along her incredible caramel rolls whenever he starts a new job.”

  “So I’ve heard. Those rolls alone should double his worth during the bidding.”

  “I sure hope not. But I suspect every single, divorced or widowed woman in town wants to win him as much as I do.”

  “As do all of the women whose husbands can barely change a lightbulb. Edgar is our biggest draw every year, bless his heart. Last year he was first on the program, and a third of the audience left as soon as his work was auctioned. This year, we’ve got him last.”

  “I’ll sure be hoping. Last month I did a lot of calling around, trying to find someone to start doing repairs and updating. The reputable firms are booked at least six months out, and I may no longer have that kind of time to wait.”

  Beth rested a comforting hand over Darcy’s. “Our whole book club is praying you’ll be able to stay in town one way or another, believe me.”

  “I’m praying, too. But I still need to be prepared.” Darcy tapped a brief text to Logan and held up her phone for Beth to see, then hit Send. “There, it’s done.”

  “Thanks a million.” Beth leaned in for a quick hug. “Now we’re all set.”

  Probably not, Darcy thought as she headed into an exam room, where a cocker spaniel was awaiting a health exam and vaccinations. Would Logan even consider the request?

  There was no answer to her text by the time she’d finished with the spaniel.

  Nothing by the time she finished with her other appointments and gathered her purse and car keys to go pick up Emma. Of course not. She hadn’t expected him to agree, but at least he could’ve been thoughtful enough to respond.

  She stopped in the kennel room, where Kaycee was checking on the IV running for a beagle recovering from surgery. “I still haven’t heard back from Dr. Maxwell. Can you keep trying to reach him? Or tell him about the auction if he stops by the clinic?”

  “No problem.”

  “Oh, and let Janet or Beth know about his answer, in case they need to add his name to the program.”

  “Will do.” Kaycee shut the cage door, turned around and grinned. “Did I hear you say that you’re pinning your hopes on Edgar? He’s my uncle, you know. Crotchety as can be.”

  “So I hear, but I’m praying he’ll agree to continue working for me after the twenty hours are up.”

  “Best wishes on the bidding, ’cause it’s probably your only chance of getting him to do any work for you. Outside of the annual youth group auction, he’s superfussy about who he works for. Says he’s semiretired.”

  “So...if I don’t have the winning bid, you could put in a good word for me later on?” Darcy said. “Please?”

  “I’ll ask, but it probably won’t make any difference. His own niece tried to hire him for a project last winter and he flat-out said no. Then again, the whole family knows she’s high-maintenance, and he probably didn’t want the bother.”

  “I promise you that I’m not,” Darcy said with a smile as she headed for the door. “I’m desperate, not difficult.”

  As she drove to the babysitter’s home to pick up Emma, the truth of her own words weighed heavily on her heart.

  The cottage needed a lot of work, as dear old Aunt Tina hadn’t been able to keep up with repairs and updates during her final years. But now there was a ticking clock to consider.

  If Logan Maxwell did let her go at the end of two months, her options would be to establish a new practice here—a financial impossibility right now—or to find a practice elsewhere, looking for an associate. But how would the cottage ever pass the mortgage home inspection for a buyer if she suddenly had to sell it and move on?

  As she waited at the only stoplight on Main Street, she looked heavenward and briefly closed her eyes. Please Lord, help me win the bidding for Edgar—and give me more time to work things out.

  * * *

  A large crowd had already gathered in the church reception hall when Darcy arrived with Emma in tow just minutes before Pastor Mark began his opening remarks at a podium.

  Two long bake sale tables displayed delectable treats, while several other tables offered arts and crafts items. At the far end of the room, two women were offering hot chocolate and coffee from the kitchen serving window.

  “I know you just had supper at home, but would you like some hot chocolate or a treat?” Darcy asked. “I see some pretty frosted cookies on that table.”

  Emma nodded somberly. “A cookie. Can we go home?”

  “Um...I need to stay, sweetie.” The daytime babysitter who took care of Emma after morning preschool every day was rarely available for evenings, and Darcy hadn’t been able to find anyone else.

  She settled Emma on a chair with her cookie and took the chair next to her. “One of the nursery ladies and some teenagers from the youth group are watching kids in the nursery. Would you like to go play with them?”

  “I wanna go home.”

  Emma’s mood didn’t bode well for the evening, but Darcy could hardly blame her. It had already been a long day for her, and this was now Emma’s usual bath time, to be followed by a bedtime snack and a stack of books to read. In the hope that Edgar had been moved to an earlier time slot, Darcy opened her program and looked down the list.

  It was up to fifteen names now, each followed by a brief description of the types of handyman jobs they preferred. Some were members of the church with other careers but willing to mow, rake or help paint. A few offered to help with household repairs or a specific auto maintenance task rather than the twenty hours. A couple said “negotiable.”

  Edgar was still at the end of the list and... Oh, my. Darcy drew a sharp breath in surprise. There was Dr. Logan Maxwell’s name, second to last. No skills listed. She glanced at it again in disbelief. He’d actually volunteered?

  Surprised, she glanced around the crowded room trying to find Beth or Janet...or even Kaycee, who had planned to take a shift at the bake sale table. Glimpsing Kaycee in the crowd milling at the back of the room, she dropped her jacket on her chair. “I’ll be right back, sweetie. You’ll be able to see me just right over there.”

  Emma looked up from nibbling the edge of her cookie and yawned. “Then can we go home?”

  “In a little while. Once it gets started, the auction shouldn’t take long.” She strode toward the crowd as Pastor Mark yielded the microphone to Lewis Thomas, a short, spare man with thinning hair and a booming voice, who encouraged vigorous bidding for the sake of the youth group, then began describing the terms of the auction.

  He abruptly launched into a rapid-fire auctioneer’s patter, and one after another, the handyman volunteers were auctioned off. Fifty dollars. A hundred. Several went for one fifty.

  A woman with a gleam in her eye shouted, “One seventy-five! That one’s my husband, and now he’ll have to take care of my honey-do list!”

  The audience erupted in laughter.

  “Hey, Kaycee,” Darcy called out as she edged through the people pressing forward toward the podium and made her way to Kaycee’s side. “I’m dying to know what Dr. Maxwell said—and how you convinced him to volunteer. Will he be here tonight?”

  A faint blush bloomed on Kaycee’s cheeks. “I’m really sorry, Doc. I never saw him at the clinic. I left two messages on his cell, but he never called back.”

  Darcy felt the blood drain from her face. “B-but he’s on the program.”

  The younger woman’s eyes widened. “Maybe he talked to someone else?”

  “He wouldn’t have known anyone else on the committee.” Darcy bit her lower lip. “I’ll find Beth or Janet. No worries.”

  “If he’s listed and his work commitment is auctioned, he’s got to f
ollow through, it’s like a contract,” Kaycee said darkly.

  “Surely not if the listing is a mistake,” Darcy retorted. “Try calling him right now. Find out if he knew about this and get him over here right away. He doesn’t need any more bad press in town. I’ll try to find Janet and get his name removed.”

  But as she turned to scan the crowd, her gaze landed on Emma. The little girl was still dutifully sitting in her chair a dozen feet away, the cookie barely touched, and tears were trailing down her cheeks. Darcy’s heart lurched as she hurried over, slipped into the chair next to Emma’s and gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry, honey—but you did see where I was, right?”

  Emma gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “And did you see your Sunday school teacher just over there? And you know Beth, and Sophie—” Darcy glanced around. “I even see Hannah in the next row. You were safe, I promise.”

  Emma nodded tearfully, her lower lip trembling.

  “Stay right with me while I find someone, all right?” Darcy scooped the child up into her arms, and Emma sagged against her shoulder, too tired to answer.

  Darcy tried to make her way through the crowd, but now everyone was out of their chairs, craning their necks to see who was up next as another five handyman volunteers were auctioned in quick succession.

  “Dr. Logan Maxwell,” the auctioneer shouted above the hubbub. “New guy in town, and already helping the community. Gotta give the guy credit. Doesn’t say what kind of work he can do, but let’s go. Starting at two hundred, folks—who is ready to go?”

  Darcy froze in horror as the auctioneer’s voice slipped into an almost indecipherable sales patter and the crowd fell silent.

  People exchanged glances.

  A few snickered.

  A stage whisper filtered through the room.

  “Who’d want to bid for the likes of him? My poor cousin works at the clinic and said she’d soon be out on her ear...”

  Time seemed to stop as more whispers spread through the room. Then the room fell silent once again when the auctioneer dropped the starting bid to a hundred seventy-five. A hundred fifty. “C’mon folks...he’s a real bargain at that. You’ll be helping the kids, and maybe he can even spay your cat.”

  Uneasy laughter rippled through the audience. “How ’bout a hundred twenty-five, then...”

  Darcy desperately scanned the crowd. Surely someone would be glad to grab such a bargain...or maybe just have mercy on him. Right now he was like an outcast, a pariah who would be the talk around town for a long, long time. And from the hard expressions she saw, that wasn’t going to change. Please, Lord, encourage someone to bid.

  Kaycee appeared at Darcy’s side. “This is awful. But on the other hand, he’s mean and he kinda deserves it.”

  “No one ever deserves ridicule, and that’s what will happen,” Darcy said quietly. “He’ll be the only guy who failed to receive a single bid. Ever.”

  “He’s still mean,” Kaycee retorted.

  “To him, the clinic is business, not personal. He’s not changing things out of spite.”

  “He doesn’t know any of us, really,” Kaycee said with a stubborn pout. “And he doesn’t care. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. The rules say no one can win more than one handyman each year. You want Edgar and I have an apartment, so I don’t need a handyman at all.”

  Darcy needed Edgar desperately. It might take all of what little she had in savings to win him—and even that might not be enough.

  Potentially losing her job and trying to move away two months from now would be hard enough. Without his skills, it might be impossible to fix up the cottage enough to sell it in a few months.

  But now empathy for Logan burned through her, taking a hard, painful hold of her heart. Could she stand by and let him become the humiliated laughingstock of the auction if no one bid even a few dollars?

  She elbowed Kaycee sharply. “Bid,” she whispered. “Now.”

  Startled, Kaycee stared at her. “What? I don’t have the money.”

  “I’ll pay. Bid against me just to bring it up to a decent amount so it isn’t embarrassing for him, and then I’ll take over. Seventy-five dollars max.”

  “Isn’t this dishonest?”

  “We’ll be increasing the youth fund profits, not trying to get a deal,” Darcy whispered back. “And I’ll certainly honor my bid if I do win.”

  Kaycee weakly raised a hand to bid.

  “We’ve got fifty, folks,” the auctioneer cried out jubilantly. “Now, do we have seventy-five...”

  Darcy nodded.

  From across the room, she saw Gladys Rexworth eye her speculatively, and her heart sank.

  “Eighty,” the older woman barked. Her mouth twisted into a malevolent, superior smirk, and now Darcy realized this was personal.

  Darcy closed her eyes briefly, remembering the run-ins she’d had with the woman in the past.

  She hadn’t wanted Logan to lose face in front of the community. But now this—this would be even worse. Gladys was a wealthy, spiteful woman who seemed to take pleasure in causing others grief with her wicked tongue.

  Darcy didn’t even want to imagine how Gladys might enjoy having the new vet under her thumb, and then spread her vicious comments after setting impossible standards for his work.

  Darcy held Emma a little tighter and swallowed hard. “Eighty-five.”

  Gladys lifted her chin triumphantly. “Two hundred.”

  Please, God, tell me what to do here. Edgar stood next to the podium, awaiting his turn. The man who could swiftly, expertly deal with the most serious projects at the cottage...

  Her shoulders sagged. “Two twenty-five.”

  Gladys’s eyes widened and mouth narrowed. Then she shook her head.

  “The vet is the bestseller so far tonight, folks,” the auctioneer crowed. “And our lady vet is the winner! Could this mean there’s a little romance in the air?”

  Darcy groaned and ran a palm down her face at the titter of laughter in the audience.

  “Now for the last opportunity of the night, we have...” The auctioneer droned on.

  A sudden gasp spread through the crowd, and every head turned toward the back entrance.

  Dr. Maxwell stood in the open doorway—windblown, disheveled and breathing hard, as if he’d run all the way from the clinic. His incredulous gaze shifted from the auctioneer to Darcy. “What on earth is going on here? I never—”

  With Emma still in her arms, Darcy hurried to his side, looped an arm through his, and hauled him back outside. “Everything is fine, folks,” she called over her shoulder. “He’s just surprised to find he’s worth that much. I sure am.”

  As she shut the door behind them, the auctioneer’s delighted voice followed her outside. “Back to the highlight of the evening, folks. We have Edgar Larson, your last chance to bid. He’s a fine carpenter who tops our auction every single year...”

  She cringed inwardly. What in the world had she done?

  Chapter Three

  Her face pale, Darcy put her daughter down, leaned against the exterior wall of the church and closed her eyes. She looked as if she were on the verge of collapsing.

  Her little girl gave Logan a wary look and hid behind her mom’s legs, as if she thought he was the big bad wolf.

  He moved a step closer in case Darcy crumpled to the ground. “Are you all right?”

  “I can’t believe I just did that,” she moaned. She shot a sidelong glance at him. “I didn’t plan to go that high, but then Gladys...”

  “And I can’t believe someone put my name on an auction block—and for what, I have no idea,” Logan bit out. “I don’t even know those people.”

  “Those people are members of this church, some of whom generously offered handyman skills, bab
ysitting or hours of yard work to be sold at the annual handyman auction. The others are the generous folks in town who often pay far more than a deal is worth, because every dollar helps the youth group attend an annual faith rally in the Twin Cities,” she retorted wearily. “If you’d answered my text messages on your cell, it wouldn’t be at all confusing.”

  “I don’t check my phone while driving.”

  “Not even at a gas station?” Now she sounded exasperated. “Or when you stop to eat?”

  “I drove for several hours without good reception, and there were no messages.”

  “Then you need to switch cell companies.”

  The loud clang of metal against metal rang out from down the street. He glanced toward the sound. “That would be one of the horses in my trailer. I stopped at the clinic before going home and found a brief note on my desk that said, ‘Auction at the church—be there at eight tonight,’ so I came straight over here. Why am I involved in this?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “My friend Beth is the committee chair, and she was desperate to have a few more names on the list. She also...um...thought it might give you some good PR in the community.”

  Beth, of course. He’d worked for days sorting and packing possessions to bring back to Wisconsin, hauling things to Goodwill and wrapping up the details of his old life in Montana.

  Now, after fifteen hours in his truck, plus three long stops to unload the horses for a break from travel, all he wanted right now was to get them into the barn and collapse on his sofa. The coming week was going to be even more hectic...but now what had Beth gotten him into?

  “So she just went ahead and added my name?”

  “No. I told her I would ask you, but apparently her assistant added you at the last minute before running off the programs.” Darcy shot a dark glance at him. “I suppose she figured that you—like all the others who volunteered—would be more than happy to help out the kids.”

  “And what does this involve, exactly?”

  “The winning bidder gets twenty hours of your time—but it can be just a few hours here and there. Carpentry, home repairs, lawn care...whatever.”