“If Beezer ate down here, I could help feed him,” Andee piped up.
“Shh, honey. It’s up to his owner.”
Flynn staggered in juggling the duffel and boxes. He adroitly stepped around the girl and dog while also avoiding contact with Jenna, who held open the screen door. “The top box is my groceries,” he said. “A few items need refrigeration. Just set the box on the counter if you will. I’ll unpack it after I store my other stuff.”
Jenna relieved him of the top box. Even though he said he’d unpack it, she took out the items that sat on top, making room in the fridge on a lower shelf. As she shut the door, she realized Andee and the dog had begun to chase after a well-chewed rubber ball that Beezer must have carried inside.
“Sorry,” Flynn said. “That’s his outside toy.”
“Isn’t Beezer smart?” Andee squealed. “He can catch the ball when it bounces high.”
“Did you hear Mr. Sutton say that isn’t an indoor toy?”
“Hey, if we’re gonna all live under one roof, you’ve gotta call me Flynn. Otherwise I’ll always be looking around for my dad.”
His cell phone rang. He set down the items he held to take out his phone. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered. “Excuse me a minute. Although it’s gonna be my mom calling, not my dad.”
Spinning to present his back to Jenna, he put the phone to his ear. “’Lo, Mom. I knew it was you...Uh, that’s my landlady’s little girl. She’s playing with Beezer. Can I call you back later?...What? No...You’ve totally misunderstood. I’m not moving in with my landlady...Well, I am, but my room is upstairs. Just bringing in my gear.”
Jenna noted the stiff set of Flynn’s shoulders.
“Mom...I explained that the air conditioner on my rental blew its compressor. I’m only bunking in her spare room until it’s fixed... I let you know so you won’t leave messages on my house phone. Just call my cell.”
Sensing his mounting frustration, Jenna crossed to quiet her noisy daughter. “Andee, please sit and play quietly with Beezer. Flynn is trying to talk on the phone.”
Andee’s laughter faded in time for Jenna to hear Flynn all but shout at his caller, “What difference does it make how old...? Lonnie, put Mom back on...It doesn’t matter...Yes...Six, I think...I’m hanging up now. Stop laughing. Goodbye.”
He smacked the face of his smartphone and jammed it into his pocket.
He turned almost sheepishly. “Ah, that was awkward. Sorry, but I happen to be cursed with an interfering family.”
“Frankly, I’m glad to know it. I started to have second thoughts about inviting a man I knew so little about to stay in our home.”
Flynn gave a low chuckle. “That’s rich. I had similar reservations. FYI, I have a meddling mom, an easygoing dad, a nosy older sister with a somewhat nosy husband, and two oblivious boys. They’re eight and ten, and think I’m cool. The whole batch lives in Abilene. What about your family?”
“A sister and brother-in-law in Maryland—they meddle, too. My parents live in an expat community in Costa Rica. When my dad retired from the Army, my parents decided to live where their money would last longer. They spent two weeks with me when Andrew, uh—” She broke off abruptly and sucked in her lower lip as she glanced at her daughter.
“Gotcha. Enough about our families. I should take this duffel to where you want me to bunk.” Flynn hoisted it.
“Through that arch is the living room. The stairs are on the left. This house has a front entrance into the living room, but it seems easier to come in through the kitchen.”
“Makes sense to me.” He started for the arch, limping.
“I hope navigating the stairs won’t be too hard on your leg.”
He paused. “It’s a war injury. On the mend. Climbing stairs will be good therapy.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t being nosy.”
“It’s okay.” Flynn ran a hand up and down his thigh.
Jenna thought he sounded terse and wished she hadn’t drawn attention to his limp. To make amends, she picked up the box he’d left behind. “While you store your personal belongings upstairs, I’ll set up Beezer’s food bowls in the laundry room.”
Andee, who had been sitting quietly with the dog’s head in her lap, sprang up from the floor. “I’ll help. I’ll fill his water bowl, okay?”
Jenna was grateful when Flynn disappeared and she could relax. She set out a rubber mat that fit nicely in the empty space beside the dryer. “Here.” She handed Andee a ceramic bowl that had Water painted in blue letters on its side. A matching bowl said Food. Having never had a dog, Jenna wasn’t sure if she should fill the food dish with the kibble Flynn had brought or not.
Andee carefully set down the bowl of water. Beezer crowded in and immediately began lapping it up. “He’s thirsty,” the girl announced as she poked her nose into the box. “Hey, Flynn didn’t bring any treats. We should’ve bought those, Mommy.”
Jenna started to say maybe Beezer wasn’t supposed to have treats, but she was interrupted by Flynn walking in, carrying a leash.
“I’m going to take Beezer for a walk.”
“I wanna go, too,” Andee said.
“It’s your bedtime. Go in now to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll come in soon and read a story. So choose a book.”
The girl pouted, but Jenna remained firm. To Flynn, she said, “I don’t know where you plan to walk, but I hope Beezer doesn’t bark and scare the ostriches.”
“I figured we’d go out to the end of your driveway and back. I wish I could take him for a run out on the desert.” He tapped his thigh. “Do you run?”
She laughed and shook her head, but then wondered if he was angling for her to exercise his dog. “I’m not big on working out,” she said.
“Really?” Flynn made a slow inspection of her as she stood in the laundry doorway. “How do you stay in such great shape?”
“Motherhood,” she said drily. “Before you go, let me give you keys to the doors.”
He followed her as she ducked back into the kitchen and took two keys off a wall rack. “I have extras for the kitchen door and for the one going out through the laundry room. I seem to have only one for the front entry.”
Flynn took them. “These are plenty.”
Feeling tension creep in again, Jenna opened an upper cupboard. “Earlier, I cleared this cupboard for you while you’re here. Feel free to use any of the dishes or silverware. It’s in this drawer.” She tapped the knob.
“Okay. I’ll take care of myself. Don’t let me wreck your routine. Ignore that I’m even here,” Flynn said.
Jenna thought that was highly unlikely. Already her nerves reacted involuntarily each time they were alone together. As now.
“I have an appointment at the VA tomorrow,” Flynn said. “On the road to Albuquerque. I never know how long I’ll have to wait, so if sometimes I roll in late, don’t think I’m not coming in.” He clipped the leash onto Beezer’s collar.
“Do you take the dog to your doctor appointments?”
“Oh, sure. Staff there love him.”
“Andee and I are pretty casual about when we eat, too. But you can use the kitchen whenever you want.”
“Uh, tonight, after I come back from the walk, I figure I’ll go upstairs and watch TV awhile before I hit the sack. So I won’t disrupt your evening.”
“When you come in, please turn out the lights.”
Flynn nodded and left through the kitchen door. Jenna heard the lock turn and let out a wobbly breath. Hurriedly she swept up the folder of notes and went to the living room.
“Can Beezer sleep in my room?”
“No. He’s gone with Flynn on a walk. Let me drop this in my room and I’ll be back to read to you. While we’re in town tomorrow, we should sign up for library cards. Maybe they’l
l have a story time so you can meet some local kids.”
“I’d rather stay home and play with Beezer.”
Jenna rubbed away a frown. Was it only this morning that plucking ostrich feathers had been her biggest problem?
* * *
FLYNN WOKE UP and crawled out of bed. He’d slept better than expected in a new, unfamiliar bed. Sometimes his knee and leg ached so badly they didn’t let him sleep. He peered around the room for Beezer, who’d been stretched out on the bedside rug when he’d turned out the lamp.
The door was ajar. He was sure it’d been shut last night.
The morning light drew him to the window. Jenna Wood, in cutoffs and a tank top, was dragging a hose over to fill water troughs in the ostrich pens. She was oblivious to being spied upon.
Flynn idly scratched his chest. He probably should feel guilty, but he didn’t. He stayed at the window until she’d shut off the water and commenced filling bins clipped to the fence with dry feed. His own stomach reminded him it was breakfast time. He smoothed the bedcovers, gathered some clean clothes and went in to shower.
Refreshed and dressed, Flynn found Beezer in the kitchen with Andee Wood. So, had the girl sneaked upstairs and let him out of the room, or had Beezer figured out how to open the door? It wouldn’t be the first time for the accomplished escape artist.
“Good morning,” Flynn said, crossing the room to the cupboard Jenna had assigned him. He moved things around on the three shelves, but didn’t see his cereal. That was when he saw his box already on the table in front of a stuffed brown bear. Andee slurped from a big bowl filled with his Froot Loops. And Beezer, the mooch, ate the same from an even bigger bowl tucked under the table.
Flynn picked up the box and shook it.
“It’s all gone.” Andee wiped her milky lips on the sleeve of her robe. She stared up with huge blue eyes that Flynn realized were much lighter in color than her mother’s.
“I see the box is empty,” he said. “Beezer has dog food, you know.”
“But he really wanted Froot Loops today. See, he ate his breakfast all up.”
Even as the big dog licked milk off his chops, he put a paw on the girl’s leg and eyed her bowl. Flynn decided this situation would be better handled by Jenna. “Okay, Beezer is coming with me. I saw your mom out by the ostrich pens. I’ll tell her goodbye and let her know you’re up.”
The girl just blinked, so Flynn grasped Beezer by his collar and they went out the kitchen door.
He put the dog in his pickup and strode across the yard to where Jenna appeared to be pulling feathers from an ostrich. “I’m leaving,” Flynn called. “Andee’s up.”
Spinning, Jenna set the plastic bag she held outside the fence. She turned back a moment to remove a scarf from around the bird’s head. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go check on her. When I peeked in on her this morning, your dog was sharing her bed.”
“Is that right? He was lying on the rug next to my bed when I fell asleep. Another thing... Andee emptied my box of cereal this morning. What she didn’t eat, she fed to the mooch.”
Jenna’s mouth opened. “Oh, I apologize. I’ll certainly speak to her. Let me wash up and I’ll fix you something. Scrambled eggs and toast, or French toast?”
“Not necessary. I’ll grab something at the café.” He paused. “I’m afraid to think what it says about me that during my lengthy sojourns in war zones, what I missed most was the breakfast cereals I ate as a kid. I brought Froot Loops. It could as easily have been a giant box of Cocoa Puffs.”
The woman clearly thought he was ratting her kid out because he was possessive of the cereal. He cleared his throat. “A bowl the size Andee fed Beezer isn’t good for him. The chocolate...” he explained.
“I understand. She’d never mean to hurt him. I’ll take care of this, and I’ll replace your cereal.”
“Now you’re making me feel like a jerk. If you’d like, I’ll talk to her about some people food being bad for dogs.”
“That would crush her, coming from you. I’ll do it. I need her to learn right from wrong.”
“He was a stray. I ran ads for weeks trying to find his owner. As fast as he took to Andee, he may well have come from a home with kids.”
“Hmm. That would explain his instant bonding.” She smiled.
Flynn felt that smile clear to his toes. “I, um, have to run.”
Jenna shaded her eyes with a hand. He didn’t run, but certainly left as fast as he could manage on a bum leg.
The man was a dichotomy. Gruff one day and kind and humble the next.
Andrew would never have offered to explain to Andee about the food. He had always left everything like that up to her. Andrew had been self-disciplined and expected it of others. Yet early in their relationship he’d known how to have fun. He’d grown more intolerant with each added duty tour abroad.
Truthfully, sometimes she’d been glad to have him leave.
Why did that come to mind now?
CHAPTER FIVE
JENNA WENT INSIDE, not looking forward to the talk she needed to have with Andee. As it turned out, she saw at once by her guilty expression that her daughter knew she’d done something wrong.
“I ate all of Flynn’s cereal. That wasn’t nice, was it? I bet he’s mad, huh?”
“You should have asked and not just helped yourself to something you knew didn’t belong to us. As for Flynn being mad, he was more concerned that you fed Beezer so much cereal. Some people food is really bad for dogs, honey.”
“Oh, no. Will Beezer get sick?” Andee looked horrified.
“If Flynn had brought the chocolate cereal you love, Beezer might have. People can eat chocolate, but it’s not good for dogs. So, you need to remember not to feed him our food no matter how sad-eyed he looks.”
“I won’t do it again. I promise.” Andee hugged Jenna.
“Okay. But when you see Flynn next, you need to tell him you’re sorry. I’m going to shower now, then we’ll drive to town.”
“Do we still have to go to the libary? Yesterday you said...” Andee’s voice grew muffled as Jenna went into her bedroom and stripped off her tank top.
“My first priority has to be finding someone to help with ranch chores.”
“Why?” Andee appeared in the doorway to the adjoining bathroom.
“We need the ranch to make money, sweetie. And don’t ask why. Take my word for it, we just do.”
* * *
JENNA PARKED THE SUV on the street near the realty office. This morning the normally quiet town seemed to bustle. Perhaps Wednesday was the day devoted to errands. It was after ten, she realized, dropping down the visor so she could do a last check of her makeup. She’d worn a skirt and sandals, and her hair was clipped at the nape of her neck. She was hoping to make a good impression.
“You look pretty, Mommy.”
“Why, thank you.” Jenna reached back and tickled Andee. “You look fantastic yourself. Let’s go see Mr. Rhodes.”
They got out of the Cherokee and Jenna took Andee’s hand.
When they walked in, the Realtor glanced up from his computer. Jenna had supposed at her last visit that Mr. Rhodes was alone because his office staff had gone to lunch. Today she realized he must operate a one-man business.
“Mrs. Wood,” he acknowledged as he stood to greet her. “Is everything going well with your new properties?”
“Not totally. Mr. Martin’s part-time employee and I parted ways. I’m hoping you can tell me where one goes in town to hire a general laborer.”
“Don Winkleman didn’t stay on? He wanted very much to buy the place, but he and Oscar couldn’t work a deal.” He paused, possibly realizing he was giving away confidential client information. “That has nothing to do with your question.”
He scratched his
head.
“We don’t have an employment office. There’s an active American Legion Post. Our good weather and the Post attract quite a few retired vets.” He appeared to give that some thought before he added, “They don’t all stick around. Some are drifters. Some would rather not work. But some would.”
“Where would I find it?” she asked.
“End of the street. There’s an American flag flying above the Post flag. Yes, it’s probably the best place to find farm help.”
“Thanks. I’ll go there now.”
Andee skipped along, holding her bear. A woman arranging potted plants outside a small flower shop looked up, smiled and said, “Good morning.”
Returning the greeting, Jenna felt her spirits lift. Once she settled into a routine, she’d have time to make friends.
She was surprised to discover that the only door into the Legion Post opened directly into a big, dimly lit room filled with dining tables and a horseshoe-shaped bar off to her right.
Laughter drifted from a well-lit area at the back that was probably a kitchen. Two men sat at the bar. Drinking beer before noon? She tugged Andee tight against her and stopped well short of the bar.
“May I help you?” a man Jenna hadn’t noticed behind the bar asked.
“I, uh, Bud Rhodes directed me here. I recently purchased a ranch west of town. I need someone to help with chores a few hours a day.”
The man polished a section of the bar, then flung the cloth over his shoulder. “Well, come on in and see if either of these jokers is looking for work.”
Jenna gingerly approached the pair and was relieved to see they were drinking coffee. Both men looked to be in their sixties. One was clean-shaven. The other had a grizzled beard and salt-and-pepper hair tied in a ponytail.
“What kind of ranch?” the guy with the ponytail asked.
“Ostriches,” she said, bracing for their reaction.
The bartender was the one who laughed.
“Not interested,” said the clean-shaved one. “I’m hitching to California, where a buddy of mine is camped by the ocean. I can’t answer for ol’ Barney here.” He clapped the scruffier man’s shoulder. “He tells me he’s been here awhile and likes it.”
An Unlikely Rancher Page 6