by Jeannie Watt
Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t have to flatter me.”
“I can’t help myself,” Sam said. “I’m a charmer through and through.”
“I’m not a rube hater.”
“No.” He spoke gently, which somehow put her back up even more. “But what really bugs me is that you seem almost afraid to have your father come home to reality. This is a ranch, Jodie. Things happen. Emergencies are a way of life and, yeah, we try to avert them, but Joe’s in this business. He knows what happens. Or he should. But you’re desperately trying to hold things together.”
This was pissing her off.
Leave it.
She couldn’t. “Do you want to know how I first saw you?”
“No.”
“I thought you were good-looking,” she continued matter-of-factly. “And steady. You know…someone a person could depend on.” His expression didn’t change, but she had a feeling she was disconcerting him. Good.
“I thought you saw me as the incompetent vet who killed an expensive horse.”
“That, too,” she agreed.
“How about now?” he asked. “Right now?” He echoed her own words.
“I paid you a retainer, didn’t I?”
“But you’ve never told me you thought I was competent,” he pointed out.
Jodie smiled blandly. She’d had enough of this conversation. “Well, if you have everything under control here, I have to go wrestle a printer into submission.”
She walked to the door, pushed it open and stepped out into the overly bright sunlight, pulling her coat around her as the cold air hit her.
Why was she so ticked off? It didn’t matter what Sam Hyatt thought of her. In fact, it might be best if he did think poorly of her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I TRIED,” Margarite said as Jodie walked into the kitchen, “but I couldn’t get the darned thing to work.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Jodie left the kitchen and headed down the short hallway to the office, ready to do battle. She needed hard copies of accounts and Margarite wanted recipes. Both required a printer and somehow Jodie was going to get the damned thing hooked up.
She removed the installation disk, reinserted it and started loading. Again. And once again, after ten minutes of screens flashing on and off and green bars filling to show progress, the damned thing stalled out at 96% installation. “Damn it!” Between printers, cows and vets… Jodie was about to fling the manual on the floor when she heard a noise in the doorway and looked up to see one of Sam’s nephews—Beau, maybe?—staring at her. Color rose in her cheeks. Bartons didn’t get caught throwing tantrums.
“Problem?” he asked matter-of-factly.
His expression was so earnest that Jodie squelched the impulse to snap, “No!” Instead she studied the boy’s handsome face for a few seconds, wondering briefly if he looked like his dad, before she chased the thought out of her mind. “You could say that,” she said in a defeated tone. “I can’t get this printer to load and the other one’s shot. I need it so I can finish some work.”
“You want me to take a look?”
He was already halfway across the room and she had a feeling it didn’t matter if she said yes or no.
She nodded and stepped back. “I would love it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Beau said after taking a quick look. “If the initial installation doesn’t load on an Alto printer, then you’re screwed.”
“Great,” Jodie said flatly. “I’m screwed.” She didn’t mind buying another printer, but she didn’t want to wait the usual weeks for delivery out in the boonies, or to drive to Elko and pick one up, only to find that the new printer did the exact same thing.
“Not totally screwed,” Beau said, tapping the keys. “I’ll see what I can do. The problem is that you have this uncompleted command messing things up….” His voice trailed off as his fingers moved over the keyboard, his eyes glued to the screen.
“This is a nice computer,” he finally said. “You must have satellite Internet out here.”
“Yes.”
“It took us a long time to get Sam up to speed with his computer system. He fought us—” he smiled at the screen reminiscently “—but we eventually wore him down.”
This kid was cute. Intense and yet somehow sweet. And standing behind him, watching him work, Jodie felt a whisper of guilt. She instantly tamped it down. What had happened was regretful. End of story.
“You want me to install these updates when I’m done?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“Okay.” He stopped typing and shrugged out of the heavy coat he wore.
“Where’s your brother?”
“Waiting for me to come back to the barn. I came in to use the john.”
“Do you think you should—”
“He’s fine,” Beau assured her. “Lucas had some stuff he needed help with while we’re here. Grain to move and stuff. Sam’s there, too.”
Beau leaned closer to the screen to read a pop-up menu. He was so unconcerned about what he was supposed to be doing, while he rescued her…. Had to love him for that.
And again she felt a twist of guilt.
She had not orphaned this kid. Get a grip!
“Got it!” Beau sat back and stared proudly at the printer, which was now spitting out a test page.
“Thank you.”
“Let me take care of this other stuff….” There was a commotion in the kitchen, male voices and stamping of feet on the mat as Margarite insisted that all snow and mud stay outside.
“Busted,” Beau said when Tyler stuck his head in the office.
“Where the he…heck have you been?”
“Jodie needed help with her printer.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Tyler grumbled, disappearing again. Beau stood up, looking satisfied.
“I think Margarite is going to feed you,” Jodie said.
“Good. I hate cooking and it’s my turn today.”
“You guys take turns?”
“Sam says it’s fair, since none of us like doing it too much.” Beau picked up his heavy canvas coat and headed for the smell of roast beef fresh out of the oven. “Hey, if you ever need more computer help, just call me. I can probably talk you through stuff on the phone. Or I can until your dad comes home. Sam says we won’t be out here any more then.”
“I don’t imagine you will,” Jodie agreed. Out of the mouths of babes… “And thanks. I may take you up on that offer.”
Everyone ate in the kitchen, leaning against the counters and talking. Or rather the boys were talking and Lucas was talking. Even Margarite tossed in the occasional comment. Sam and Jodie stayed at opposite ends of the kitchen, as far from each other as they could get.
“Hey, Jodie,” Beau said at one point, “if you won’t let us drive your car, can we ride in it? When the roads are clear?”
“And can we go fast?” Tyler added with mock eagerness.
“When will the roads be clear?” she asked, looking out the window to her left. “June?”
“Yeah, probably,” Beau said. “But we can wait.”
“I don’t think I’ll be here in June.” Jodie gave a half smile. “But if you’re ever down in my country, look me up.”
Beau’s expression instantly shuttered. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”
Good one, Jo. His parents had died in her part of the country.
Margarite jumped into the conversation then, asking the boys whether the team would be going to the state tourney this year. The mood changed as Beau happily explained that he’d just passed a crucial math test and would soon be back on the team, so hell yes, they were going to state. Jodie stayed out of this conversation, choosing instead to listen and not make another faux pas.
Finally Sam brought his plate to the sink, next to where Jodie was standing. She ignored him as he set it in the basin of soapy water, and felt relieved when he told the boys that they had to get going. She needed some time to think things through, regain her persp
ective.
“Thanks for coming,” Lucas said. “I appreciate the help finding the cattle and clearing the culvert.”
“Hey, it was good exercise,” Beau said with a grin.
“Glad we could help,” Tyler added, and then the three of them went out the door. Both boys waved at Jodie when she stepped out to the glassed-in porch and watched them leave. All she got from Sam was his profile.
She folded her arms across her chest as the bronze truck disappeared over the snowy hill. This situation with Sam and his brother was bugging the hell out of her, and that wasn’t good.
If she lost her objectivity, then she might as well quit her job now.
“HAVE ANY CALVES BEEN born?” Joe demanded over the echoing computer-phone Skype connection. He’d had enough of e-mail and wanted to interrogate Jodie directly.
“Only two.”
“What color?”
“A red one and a dusty brown.” Lucas had told her the brown one would turn black, which was what her father was breeding the cows for. “The red one had a twin, but it was stillborn.”
There was a slight pause, and then Joe said, “It happens. What sex are the calves?”
“Two girls.”
Joe grunted with satisfaction. “Is Mike around? I’d like to talk to him.”
“No,” Jodie said with a clear conscience. “He’s not available now.” Nor would he be. “Everything is going fine.” Nothing had died, except for the stillborn calf, and Bronson, the horse, was healing up better than Sam had hoped.
“Four more weeks,” Joe said in a way that made Jodie think he was counting the days.
“Lu—” She almost said, “Lucas doesn’t expect many early calves,” but managed to change it to, “Lucky you, spending four more weeks in Europe.”
“Yeah.”
“Dad…aren’t you getting anything out of this trip?”
There were a few seconds of silence and then he said, “I am enjoying spending time with your mother.”
Jodie stilled at the unexpected response. That was perhaps the softest sentiment she’d ever heard her father express, and she needed to tread lightly so as not to ruin the moment.
“Well, you’ll be back soon enough.”
“Right.”
“Keep in touch by e-mail, Dad. We agreed before you left.”
“All right. Don’t rat me out to your mom.”
“I won’t if you hang up now.”
Jodie’s shoulders sank with relief when he did as she asked. She hated lying, but right now the truth wasn’t going to do Joe a diddly damn worth of good. She could see him hopping a plane home tomorrow if he knew that Mike was gone and she’d hired two people he never wanted on the ranch again to replace him. Tough. She was in charge at the moment. She’d fess up later, face-to-face. Hopefully that meeting wouldn’t undo the good the vacation had done.
Although Jodie thought it was much too cold to turn a baby out, Lucas had let the new mothers and their calves back into the pasture. Daisy seemed to delight in the new freedom, galloping around her mama, peeking at Jodie from the safe side of the cow. And as Lucas had promised, she seemed oblivious to the cold even though there was a coating of ice on her long reddish-brown hair.
Jodie turned up her collar and went back to the house. She liked having Lucas there, liked not having to feed the animals in the below-zero temperatures. She’d already decided that come hell or high water, Joe was going to keep Lucas on. He’d been a bona fide godsend, as had Sam.
There was always the possibility, though, that Lucas wouldn’t want to stay. Perhaps like Sam, he would refuse to work for Joe.
Jodie’s gut told her he’d stay as long as Margarite was there. It hadn’t been too difficult to figure out that Lucas had come back primarily because he was sweet on her and looking for a second chance after completing rehab. So far it seemed to be working. The housekeeper and the cowboy were spending more and more time together, and there was a lot less complaining about mud and slush on the floor. And that, Jodie decided, could be a trump card. Lose Lucas, lose Margarite. She didn’t think Joe wanted to see his housekeeper go. The little woman might hate blood and snow, but she was more than capable of dealing with whatever emergency came up. Plus she was one heck of a cook.
“IT ISN’T LIKE WE’RE going to drink. We just want to go over to Chad’s house for a while.” Beau stood next to the kitchen door he and Tyler had been about to escape through when Sam had asked where they were going.
“His parents are in Salt Lake,” Sam repeated for the third time. “You aren’t going over there if his folks aren’t home.”
His nephews figured they were grown-up, now that they were driving, but Sam thought otherwise. They’d turned sixteen two months ago. That was not grown-up in his book.
Tyler’s face was getting red with unexpressed anger. “There isn’t going to be a party,” he said. “You can come by and check. Even if there was a party, we don’t drink.”
Sam was exhausted after an eighteen-hour day, and this was the last thing he needed. But he didn’t trust Chad Bellows and he didn’t particularly like Chad’s parents, either. They’d let their two boys run wild, and the older one had suffered some legal consequences because of it.
“Have Chad come over here.”
Where were these well-worn parental phrases coming from? The exact same words that had driven him and Dave so crazy as kids were now spilling out of Sam’s mouth.
“No!” Tyler said, the anger finally boiling over. “Either you trust us or you don’t.” Beau nodded, his expression taut.
“It’s not you guys. It’s Chad. His brother—”
“Made mistakes, but he’s not there and he’s not Chad.”
That was it. Sam was too exhausted to argue any longer. “Stay home tonight,” he said. Problem solved. He needed to crash and he didn’t want to have to worry about the boys. And if they stayed home, maybe they’d learn not to question his decisions—which were made entirely for their own benefit. One of these days they’d understand that.
Sam shook his head as he walked down the hall to his room, leaving two angry teenagers staring after him.
He’d just pulled his boots off when the phone rang. A second later Beau called out sullenly, “You have an emergency.”
Sam’s chin dropped to his chest. If he could just get enough clients to pay up, he’d take on a partner. This was killing him. He went to the door in his stocking feet and opened it. Beau was standing at the end of the hall, his jacket still on, holding the cordless phone.
“Lawrences?” Sam asked. He’d sewn up a dog earlier that day, and Mrs. Lawrence had refused to let him put on a funnel collar to keep the animal from tearing at the stitches. If he had to go back and restitch that dog, he was charging double.
“Margarite.”
His gut tightened for no particular reason as he walked down the hall. Beau handed him the phone, then slunk off through the kitchen to his own bedroom, radiating resentment.
Tough. Sam brought the receiver up to his ear. “Margarite?”
“They promised me if they both left there would be no problems,” the woman said without a hello. No trouble figuring out who “they” were, since there were only two other people on the ranch.
“What’s the problem?”
“What d’you think? I’ve got a heifer bred to a bull that was way too big, but the right color,” Margarite said in disgust. “Can you come out here? Lucas had to go to Elko and Jodie’s there, too, shopping. I can’t pull this calf alone.”
“I’ll be right out,” Sam said. He just hoped he didn’t fall asleep driving to the ranch. He put the phone back in the charger, then called to the boys.
“Yeah?” Tyler replied from the living room, the TV now on.
“I’m going to the Barton ranch,” Sam said wearily. He almost added, “Stay home while I’m gone,” but stopped himself. The boys knew he wanted them at home that night. Hopefully, they’d do as he asked. They’d better do as he asked.
JODIE’S PULSE RATE quickened when she returned home from a shopping trip in Elko—actually, an excuse to get out of the house now that the roads were plowed—and saw Sam’s truck parked next to the barn. Another emergency? A chance to see Sam? It was ridiculous that the two thoughts held equal weight. She needed to figure a few things out here. Like why she couldn’t get this guy out of her head?
She exited the ranch truck, which she’d driven in case it snowed again, and went straight to the barn. Sam was in a pen, tending to a new calf. He glanced up when the door opened, then pulled a long tube out of the calf’s throat. The mother was still down.
“Yep, the incompetent vet is here, saving the day.” Sam rolled up the tube as he spoke.
Jodie approached the pen and Sam looked at her through the rails. “Lucas said none of the heifers were ready.”
“Cows are contrary creatures.”
She eyed the tube, but didn’t ask questions.
“Just a precaution,” Sam said. He climbed the rails and dropped onto the other side, the tube and an empty bag in hand. “I’ve got to check this other cow.”
Jodie started for the door. She had groceries to bring into the house, and since there was no emergency, she had no reason to hang around. She’d gone only a few feet when Sam let out a shout and the corral panels rattled. She whirled around, expecting to see him lying on the ground and the cow stomping him, but instead he had both hands pressed to his side, cursing and grimacing in pain. The cow was a few feet away, switching her tail, her eyes fixed on him in a belligerent bovine glare. Jodie had no idea what had just happened.
“Are you all right?” she asked, thinking even as she spoke that that was one stupid question. No, he wasn’t all right.
“Ever heard of a cow kick?” he said through clenched teeth. “Get Lucas, okay? I need some help with this heifer.”
“Get out of the pen, Sam. She doesn’t look friendly.”
The cow was eyeing him in a way that was not at all pleasant. Sam exhaled heavily, then, keeping one eye on the animal, whose tail swung back and forth rhythmically, he painfully climbed over the panels. Jodie automatically went to help him down off the rails, her hands dropping away from his solid back when he regained his footing and once again put pressure on his side.