Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: A Ranch for His FamilyCowgirl in High HeelsA Man to Believe In

by Hope Navarre

  “I really care about Walt.”

  “I know, Ryan.”

  And that was that. Subject closed. The server came and plopped salads down in front of them. Ellie picked up her fork, met Ryan’s eyes then put her fork down again. “I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” she said. “It’s not something I do.”

  Ryan took in a long breath, then exhaled slowly. “And I guess I can’t ask you to.”

  * * *

  DAMNED WALT. Even when he wasn’t there he managed to inject surliness into the moment. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe she’d been enjoying her time with Ryan just a little too much.

  No, she’d definitely been enjoying it too much.

  They solemnly finished the dinner that had started out so well talking about the rodeo and Ellie’s garden. Safe topics. Boring topics. Good old Walt. If anyone was going to keep her grounded in reality, it was that old coot.

  After dinner they walked silently out to the truck. Ellie put her take-home box in the cooler, then a few minutes later Ryan put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway that led back to the ranch in a two-hundred-mile straight shot. They rode for long moments in heavy silence and Ellie wondered if it was better to stay locked in her own thoughts or to make some kind of mindless conversation. It was Ryan, though, who broke the silence.

  “What happens if you can’t find a job in your field?”

  “Good question,” Ellie murmured, thinking this was her punishment for holding the line with Walt.

  “Do you have geographical considerations?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Will the father be involved with your child?”

  Ellie laughed before she could stop herself. “Hardly.” When he looked over at her, she said, “He’s married.” Ryan’s expression instantly shuttered and he turned his eyes back to the road. “That was a quick judgment,” she murmured.

  “I’m not judging you.”

  “Yeah. I think you are, but it’s my fault for dropping the information like that. Although I don’t know how to pretty it up.”

  “Did you know he was married?” Ryan asked after several silent miles.

  The sudden question surprised her, as if he was looking for a way to exonerate her from whatever judgment he’d made. “Would that matter?”

  “No.”

  “No, as in there’s no excuse for getting involved with a married man?”

  “No, as in I understand that things like this happen.”

  “Do you?” she asked in a disbelieving voice.

  He glanced over to meet her eyes and she could see how very serious he was when he said, “Yeah. I do. Better than you might think.”

  “Has it happened to you?” she asked.

  “Not to me, personally.”

  Ellie let out a sigh and let her head fall back against the headrest. “He wasn’t married at the time. He was engaged and got married two weeks later. We lived in different cities. I didn’t know about his fiancée.”

  “Sounds like a stellar kind of guy.”

  “He had a few positive traits,” Ellie said. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have slept with him, but the negatives far outweighed the positives now. “And I didn’t do due diligence.” She looked out the window. She would never make that mistake again.

  * * *

  ELLIE FEEL ASLEEP about fifty miles from home. There hadn’t been much to say after the explanation of her situation—it didn’t seem like the time to shift awkwardly into chitchat about the rodeo or the scenery.

  When he’d asked her to come along with him yesterday, his hope had been that they could distract one another. Well, it’d worked. He was now distracted, wondering what kind of an asshole would sleep with a woman while engaged. No, wait. He knew the answer to that because he was closely related to a guy like that.

  Did the jerk’s bride know that he’d knocked up another woman? Ryan’s hunch was no. Which left Ellie in the same position as his mother—raising the kid alone. Except that Ellie had more financial resources than his mother had had, and he sincerely hoped that she had demanded child support from the father.

  Ryan’s fingers tightened on the wheel and he made an effort to relax them. He’d bet that Charles had never once thought that lack of paying child support would come back to bite him in the ass as it was now, thanks to Lydia having had enough. Maybe he should take the deal...except it would kill him to take money from the Montoyas. And again he wondered if his brother was somehow involved, egging Charles on, making certain that he would receive his full inheritance.

  Ellie stirred in her sleep, the coat she’d draped over herself slipping into the seat beside her. Ryan automatically reached over and pulled it back over her. The gut-level attraction he felt toward her was subtly shifting into protective mode now that he knew her circumstances, which was a good thing...if he could keep it there.

  She was sexy. She was off-limits.

  She was probably going to fire Walt.

  * * *

  ELLIE WAS AWAKENED the next morning by the landline ringing in the living room. She glanced at the clock and groaned. Eight o’clock. After lying awake last night for most of the night, fighting regrets while telling herself she’d done the right thing, all she needed was a blasted phone call a few hours after she’d fallen asleep.

  She cleared her voice, picked up the phone, said hello.

  “Hello?” The voice was deep, pleasant, masculine. “George Monroe here. I wanted to let you know I’m available to start work immediately. I’d like to discuss preliminaries with you today after I set up, then start my observations day after tomorrow, if that can be arranged.”

  “Set up?”

  “I bring my own mobile home to the ranches. That way I have a base to operate from without putting out the owner.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you later today, Mr. Monroe.”

  “George.”

  “George. See you then.”

  Ellie hung up and then ran a hand through her hair as she wondered how this evaluation process was going to play out. If Walt was fired, then Ryan was going, too, and regardless of what was happening between them, Ellie hated to think of him leaving the place he’d put so much into. He was qualified and adaptable. Francisco was staying no matter what. He did his job well and he had an attitude of quiet professionalism that Angela would respect. Ellie was personally going to see to it that he still had a job when George was done. But Walt... He was his own worst enemy. He was also providing quite a decent—and perhaps necessary—block between her and Ryan, who’d barely said a word to her after she’d confessed the paternity of her child. He said he wasn’t judging her, but she definitely felt judged.

  All for the best, really.

  George arrived two hours after his call, pulling a sleek travel trailer behind his shiny black dual-wheeled pickup truck. He pulled to a stop in front of the house, where Ellie met him, and indicated with an engaging smile that he thought the best place for his trailer was in the shade of the bunkhouse. Ellie agreed, although she’d actually have preferred to not have him so close to the main house. It was interesting how living on the ranch for only a matter of weeks had changed her perspective on privacy. Just having him here gave her the uncomfortable feeling that her space had been invaded.

  As George set up, Ellie retreated to the privacy of the backyard where she watered her flowers and pulled the newly sprouted weeds for nearly an hour as she convinced herself that she was being unfair to Milo’s consultant, swayed by Ryan’s obvious distaste for the man. Okay, so his teeth were overly white, but even Ryan had admitted that the guy knew his stuff, he just had a tendency to make sweeping changes. She’d do what she could to counteract that tendency. Being in a field that was loaded with specialists, Milo had high regard for experts, so George’s recommenda
tions might ultimately trump hers, but Ellie could be persuasive, so hopefully—

  “Hello?”

  Ellie’s head jerked up at the sound of George’s voice. He stood on the other side of the garden gate, smiling at her. “All set up,” he said. “I was wondering if you might have a few minutes for some preliminaries. I have iced tea if you’d like to sit in the shade while we talk.”

  Ellie considered his invitation for a moment as she gathered her gloves in one hand, thinking it was odd that she had the instant impression that he was the one in command here—or at least the one who thought he was in command. She met his eyes, smiling slightly as she said, “I’d like to clean up first. Shall we meet in the main house, say in half an hour?”

  George’s expression remained congenial, but Ellie sensed a shift in his demeanor as he processed her response. “Certainly,” he said. “See you then.”

  Ellie stayed where she was, damp gloves in hand, as George turned and made his way back down the path leading to the drive, wondering if she’d misread him or if charismatic George liked to run the show. It probably wouldn’t take long for her to get a true read.

  Almost exactly half an hour later, George knocked on the front door and Ellie let him in, smiling coolly at him before closing the door. She waved at the kitchen table and he walked past her, setting his laptop on the table.

  “I just got off the phone with your uncle,” he said.

  “I’m surprised you caught up with him,” Ellie said mildly. Usually, Angela confiscated his phone when they went on vacation.

  “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “But I thought it best to touch base with him before starting.”

  So George was making it clear she wasn’t his boss. “I see. Well, what did you two decide?”

  George leaned back slightly in his chair, more comfortable now that she was following his lead. “I have to meet with a former client tomorrow in Butte, and then I officially start my evaluation here day after tomorrow. Milo wants me to meet with you and keep you updated. If you have any concerns, I can address them and I can make you aware of any issues that crop up.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Ellie agreed.

  George pressed some keys on his laptop, pushing the machine away from him so that Ellie had a clear view of the screen. “These are the areas I’ll be evaluating after doing my general observations the first couple days...”

  He went on to describe how he would tackle each area, and Ellie had to admit that his plan seemed efficient and logical as he moved from the general to the specific in the areas of livestock and pasture management, irrigation, infrastructure and business operations.

  “The first day will just be general observations, then I’ll meet with you and we can discuss which aspects deserve the most attention during the time I’ll be here.”

  “How long does it usually take to do an evaluation?”

  “I’ve done everything from two weeks to a year.”

  “A year?” Ryan had said something about that.

  “I moved onto the property and managed it until I could hire and train a new manager and crew who could run the place right.” George smiled reminiscently. “I had to basically tear everything down and build it again from scratch. The breeding program, the haying, the pastures and forage. Hell of an undertaking.”

  “Mmm,” Ellie said politely.

  “It’s still doing well. The owners were the ones that recommended me to the Kenyons, who in turn recommended me to your uncle.”

  “Hopefully this ranch won’t need such a thorough overhaul,” Ellie murmured.

  “Hopefully,” George agreed, closing up his laptop. “Time will tell. I have to tell you, though, usually properties with older managers need a lot of rehabilitation.”

  “Shouldn’t the older managers have more experience?”

  “In methods that are outdated and often ineffective. The problem is that they don’t want to change, and if that’s the case, then they are detrimental to the property.”

  “Again, I hope that’s not the case here,” Ellie said, knowing full well it was.

  “And again, time will tell,” George said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RYAN GOT BACK from repairing the irrigation in the north hayfield, wet, dirty and in dire need of a beer, only to find a fifth-wheel camp trailer with a pop out parked next to the bunkhouse. George Monroe sat in a chair outside, tapping away on his laptop.

  He set the laptop aside on the wooden folding table next to him—the one with the tall glass of iced tea on it—and got to his feet. “Ryan. Good to see you.” He flashed a lot of teeth as he shook Ryan’s hand. “I see that you’re doing well in the roping this year. Looks like you have a trip to Vegas in your future.”

  “I hope so,” Ryan said, although frankly he was beginning to care less and less about it.

  George gestured toward the computer. “I’m jotting down some preliminary notes today, going over the personnel information before I meet with Ellie again.”

  “Yeah?” Funny thing, but even though he’d come to the conclusion that it would be best for both he and Ellie if he kept a healthy distance, he didn’t like hearing George call her by her first name. Didn’t like it one bit; didn’t like George one bit.

  “So here’s the plan,” the king of consultants said congenially. “I want to go out with you guys for several days, watch operations and then we’ll have a sit-down and discuss what I’ve observed, your perspectives and possible changes.”

  “All right.” Possible changes such as changing out the entire crew if the Vineyard was anything to judge by.

  “You seem hesitant,” George said, a slight frown marring his good-natured expression.

  “I’m just naturally cautious,” Ryan said.

  “If you’re doing your job well, you have nothing to be cautious about.”

  That wasn’t what he’d heard, but he wasn’t going to challenge the guy. Walt would do that. Ryan had already started looking for small parcels of land nearby that Walt could purchase, but there was little that wasn’t close to the road and the traffic Walt hated so much, yet in Walt’s price range. And then there was the matter of convincing Walt that he wasn’t going to die on this land. The last time he’d tentatively brought up the matter, over beer a few days ago, Walt had shut down, refused to speak.

  Oh, yeah. The next weeks were going to be fun.

  “I think you’ll be satisfied with the jobs we do.”

  George smiled, a fake smile not unlike the one that Ellie had given him upon first arrival. Although George’s seemed to hold a hint of quiet malice, reminding Ryan of his mother’s assessment of the man—George was a bully.

  Half an hour later Ryan was sitting at Walt’s table, on the receiving end of the older man’s fierce glare. There’d been a time when Walt didn’t glare. He’d been stern, but not angry.

  “I will jump through hoops for this guy, but don’t think it’s not pissing me off.”

  “I wouldn’t think that for a minute,” Ryan assured him, and then he leaned forward, got serious. “You’ve alienated Ellie and you can’t afford to do that with George. Hell, you couldn’t afford to do it with Ellie.”

  “If she can’t handle straight talk—”

  “What? She can fire you?”

  Strong emotion played over Walt’s face and Ryan could see that he still stubbornly clung to the idea that no one knew the ranch like him and no one was qualified to run it but him. He’d lost the place due to a mix of bad circumstances, but he saw those now as things that had been beyond his control—and in some ways he was correct. That didn’t change the fact that Ellie—and probably George—could fire him in a heartbeat.

  “I can’t stand the idea of justifying my job to that guy,” Walt grumbled, “but I’ll do it. At least he knows something...unl
ike the princess.”

  “Don’t underestimate her,” Ryan said smoothly.

  Walt cocked an eyebrow at him, studying him as if ascertaining whether or not he’d gone to the dark side. “No,” he finally said. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

  * * *

  WALT MADE MORE noise than necessary early in the morning—particularly when Ryan was at a rodeo, which he was today. Thanks to his revving of the four-wheeler, she was wide-awake and could get an early start on the day. Ellie walked to the window just as Walt, who must have finally figured out he’d annoyed her enough, put the ATV into gear and started across the pasture. The sound of the engine faded and Ellie went to put on the kettle.

  Blessed peace.

  Walt was gone. George was gone, off meeting with his former client in Butte. Of the two, she’d rather have Walt there revving his motor. She found it unsettling having George on the property, even though he’d been there less than twenty-four hours, which was probably exactly how Walt felt about her. Ellie gave a small snort—hard to believe, but she and Walt had something in common. They were both territorial.

  Ellie had never thought of herself as being that way; if anything, she’d always felt like a drifter, because her home had never felt like home. She hadn’t lived there for more than a few months at a time during middle school and high school and when she was there, it felt temporary because she knew she’d be leaving again soon. But she was definitely feeling territorial about the ranch. Maybe she could blame some pregnancy nesting instinct. Or maybe she was simply feeling protective toward the crew.

  The phone rang in the late afternoon while Ellie was working some horse manure into the flower beds, following the directions from a gardening forum. Her flowers were doing well, but were nowhere near Angela standards. Well, Angela would either have to make do or hire a professional.