“You’ll be fine, Chels. Give it some time.”
Chelsea nodded at Laurie’s words. She had almost three weeks to get comfortable in this new job before their parents came to town. Even better, if she could convince them to make her position permanent, then it’d be one less thing her parents could criticize her for.
Mud or no mud, the Wilson Ranch and that brooding cowboy would not get the best of Chelsea Blake. She needed to stay on Parker’s good side and show him she could do her job well. She thought back on how Parker had handled the cattle expertly and the way his hazel eyes had held her own.
Working at a ranch of any kind may be way outside her comfort zone, but Parker had better watch out because this city girl didn’t scare easily.
~
Parker lifted his racquet as Ray served the ball. They’d been playing for nearly an hour, and Parker was worn out. The friends used to play racquetball often, but it’d been way too long. His muscles agreed with the assessment, and his arm ached from his injury. They’d decided this was the last point of the game and when Ray bested him, Parker happily admitted defeat.
“You are out of shape, my friend.” Ray downed half a bottle of water.
“I have a ranch to run now. I get plenty of exercise, just a different kind.” Parker was used to Ray’s jabs. And the truth was, he exercised nowhere near as much as he had before his accident. In fact, back then, he was about as much of a jock as Ray still was.
Memories of the many evenings Parker joined the guys for games of basketball flooded his mind. They had a team in the league and Parker was as competitive as any of the others. It was one of the few things he had participated in that was outside the rodeo circuit.
Ray had tried to get him back into the game many times over the last year but Parker refused. He hadn’t wanted to see the pity on the faces of his buddies so he’d shut them out. Ray was the last of his friends he spoke to regularly.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it all: the rodeo, the roping, playing basketball. Everything.
Ray polished off the rest of his bottle of water and pointed a finger at Parker. “You know, anytime you’re ready, you can come back. The guys still ask about you sometimes. And we have a lot of new players.”
“Not going to happen.”
“It’s been a year, man. Zeke’s engaged and getting married in April. Cory and his wife just had their second child. And Julio’s got a steady girlfriend.” At that last point, he raised his eyebrows for emphasis.
Parker bit back a sigh. His old friends had moved on with their lives. And where was he? In the same place he’d been a year ago. He always enjoyed seeing Ray. They’d been best friends for years. But he could do without the attempts to draw him back into his old life, especially one he felt little connection to anymore.
It was time to change the subject.
“How’s Jessie?”
“She’s good!” Ray’s entire face changed as he talked about his wife of two years. “We found out she’s pregnant last week.”
“Wow, that’s great!” When Parker first met his friend, he’d never imagined he’d get married, much less become a father. Apparently time did change a man. “Congratulations. I’ll bet you’re both ecstatic.”
“We’re over the moon. They weren’t kidding when they say pregnant women glow.”
Parker listened as Ray talked about how they planned to tell their families tonight at dinner.
Knowing how excited his mom was for Kara to get married, he could imagine how thrilled she’d be when the first grandbaby was finally on the way.
He pushed down the sadness that sometimes made its way into his heart when he wasn’t prepared. He’d never considered himself the marrying type. Then he met Brenda. But after that didn’t work out…
Kara insisted there was a woman out there who would look past his scars and see him for who he really was. But it was hard for him to imagine.
No. He doubted marriage or children were in the cards for him. And he had to be fine with that.
Ray must have asked him a question because he was staring, waiting for a response.
Parker shook himself from his reverie. “What’s that?”
“Earth to Parker. Boy, you are out of shape. I was asking if you had a woman in your life right now.”
“No. Not a one.” And it was better that way.
The friends said goodbye and Parker got into his SUV.
An image of Chelsea crashed into his mind out of nowhere. She’d been watching the longhorns and hadn’t noticed his observations. The combination of her smile with the way the breeze blew her hair around her face… He swallowed hard.
It really hadn’t been necessary for her to come out when they unloaded the new longhorns. But he’d hoped that getting out there in the mud would deter her from coming back. He knew those fancy shoes of hers wouldn’t last long.
He pictured her lifting those mud-laden shoes, pure disgust on her face, and laughed loudly. That almost made up for having to deal with her at all today. Another day or two of similar outings, and hopefully she’d be calling it quits.
Her questions about the longhorns had thrown him, though. It was clear she wasn’t real comfortable around the animals. But where he had expected disinterest or even boredom, she’d responded with curiosity.
He needed to up his game a little. Because if he had any say in it at all, little Miss Frou-Frou would be gone by the end of the week.
Chapter Four
Chelsea spent half the night with her good friend Google, searching for information about the Wilson Ranch, and Parker in particular. She’d hoped to find a tidbit or two and found pages of news articles. The ranch was bigger and more successful than she’d originally comprehended. And Parker? He’d been in the limelight for ages and that was no exaggeration.
Apparently, he’d roped as a young child. Chelsea found a variety of pictures showing him in team roping competitions, and many of them earned him first place. Her research led her to discovering that wins and his popularity landed him two big endorsements.
She did another search and found a picture of him in jeans, no shirt, with a coiled rope resting over his shoulder. Chelsea let out a low whistle. With that knock-down grin, the guy was a regular heart throb. No wonder one of the largest names in Western wear had snatched him up as their advertisement eye candy.
Curious about team roping, she located a few videos of Parker’s competitions online. The announcer stated Parker was the heeler and his partner, Trace, the header.
A steer was released from a pen and both Parker and Trace raced their horses after it. Trace swung the lasso over his head and roped the steer around both horns. His horse pulled back, turning the steer to the left. Meanwhile, Parker kept his own lasso swirling above his head, roping the steer’s two rear legs, sending the animal to the ground. The entire thing took under eight seconds.
Chelsea watched several videos, amazed at the coordination required by the duo to rope the steer in an amount of time that put them on the top of the boards.
Even though she should get to bed before having to get up early for work tomorrow, she kept browsing pictures from Parker’s past. Images of him with a woman on each arm had shown up more than once. By all online appearances, the man had been given everything he could possibly want.
And then there were the pictures of the car accident. Chelsea flinched the moment one of them appeared on the screen. How had anyone survived that giant pile of jagged metal that used to be a vehicle? She tried to imagine what it would’ve been like to be trapped inside, but she couldn’t. It only left her claustrophobic and willing away the inklings of pity she felt for the man.
Other news articles reported that his injuries had destroyed any chance of returning to the circuit. Chelsea surmised it would’ve been impossible to walk away from that kind of accident without it altering a person.
She’d like to hope he’d been pleasant to be around before. All of those images she’d seen in the ne
ws, from the time he was two until a year ago, told of a confident man who had a funny story to tell. It sure didn’t match up with what she knew of her current employer and made her more than a little curious about him.
~
The next day, Chelsea drove right past the main house to park near the barn like she had done after that first meeting. She killed the engine and took in a deep breath.
“The courageous Chelsea Blake enters day two in the wild Texan outback,” she said to herself in her best Australian accent, following it up with an eye roll. The sun had shone all day yesterday and hopefully some of that mud had dried up. If she were lucky, she wouldn’t have to go outside at all. But if she did, she was prepared.
She got out of the car, a tote bag in one hand, and her usual bag over her other shoulder.
There was no sign of Parker, which was just as well.
She made her way into the barn and up to her office. The lights were still off. She switched those on, got the laptop running, and put her lunch in the fridge.
A list of things that needed to be done was by the computer. Chelsea had no way of knowing if it was Mrs. Wilson’s handwriting or Parker’s. But it was relatively straight-forward, and she got right to work.
After a couple hours of silence, footsteps echoed from the stairs. She looked up as Parker peeked his head around the door.
“I see a little mud didn’t keep you from coming back.”
Was he happy about that or disappointed? Chelsea studied his face and had no clue. He ought to play poker — he’d sweep the table. She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t quit easily.”
“You got my note. Any problems with it?”
Ah, so it was Parker’s handwriting. Exceptionally neat and flowing — that detail surprised her. “None at all. I should be finished in an hour.”
He checked his watch. “Very well. Meet me downstairs at two.” With that, he disappeared from the doorway.
Chelsea stared at the space he’d left behind, half expecting him to return and elaborate a little. He never did. She tried to speculate on what horrible outing he had planned but then worked to get everything finished up. Before doing anything else, she traded her slip-on shoes for the boots she’d bought the evening before. They weren’t what she would have worn normally, but they came up nearly to her knees and would be a lot more practical than the shoes she wore yesterday.
She intended to be downstairs early, but he was already waiting for her in the truck.
“Hop on in.” There was no missing his scrutiny as he checked out her footwear once she’d climbed inside. “Those are an improvement. Not pretty. But an improvement.”
She lifted one of her boots and rested it on the dashboard. “Are you kidding? What’s wrong with them?”
“Are they cowgirl boots or rain boots?”
Chelsea studied them and finally shrugged.
“Exactly.”
With a huff, she let her foot fall back down to the floorboard. Well, they were more appropriate, just like he’d asked. If he’d wanted her to wear a uniform, he should have specified. She could’ve sworn she heard a chuckle, but when she swung her head in his direction, his face was a stoic as ever.
Chelsea let out a slow breath of air. “Where are we going?”
“Bringing new cattle in requires more than relocating them. Depending on where we get them from, they have to be quarantined for as long as a month or two. This lot was purchased from a place we trust, so we’ll integrate them into the rest of the herd in a few days. Meanwhile, we’ve brought in a vet to give each of the yearlings a once-over. Our vet is here regularly, and I thought you should be introduced. That way you’re familiar with who he is.”
Okay. Well, this shouldn’t be too bad. She rested her arm next to the window as the landscape bumped by. With all the money the family made, you’d think they could pave more of these dirt roads.
When they got to the pen, she noticed a large diesel truck and trailer waiting. Parker got out of the truck and before Chelsea had the chance to, he’d opened her door for her. She slipped to the ground, and said, “Thank you,” under her breath. A gentleman. Who would’ve thought?
He said nothing but led her around the side of the pen. A large, metal contraption held a yearling. An older man was just outside with his hand on the animal’s back. The moment he identified Parker, he stuck a hand out and gave a big grin. “Good to see you, Parker. You’ve got a nice looking bunch here.”
Parker shook the man’s hand and nodded. “One of the best I’ve seen in a while.” He motioned Chelsea forward. “Mom hired someone to coordinate everything here at the ranch. This is Chelsea Blake. Chelsea, this is Doctor Rick Emerson. He’s been working with us for a long time.”
Doctor Emerson tipped his hat at Chelsea, and she waved her greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too, young lady. Yes, I’ve been here for a while. Worked with this guy’s daddy many years ago.” He shook his head and sadness passed over his face momentarily. “He was a good man, may he rest in peace.”
Parker cleared his throat, and Chelsea thought he appeared uncomfortable. She’d read that his dad had died when Parker was seventeen. What kind of relationship did they have? She hoped they’d been closer than she was with her own father. Other than conversations around the dinner table, she could count on one hand the number of instances she’d spent quality time with him. Not that it was a lot better with her mother.
She frowned and tried to shake the thoughts from her head. She motioned to the device the veterinarian was standing outside of. “What is this?” It reminded her of a security station she’d walk through at the airport only a lot more elaborate. She walked around the front to where the yearling’s head was.
Parker grabbed her elbow to stop her. “Stay back here away from her horns.” When she’d retreated to his location, he let go of her arm. “This is called a chute. It’s designed to allow the animal inside and keep it contained. There’s not enough room for her to kick or move those horns of hers around. It keeps us — and her — safe. Meanwhile, she’s secure and the doctor here can examine her, administer vaccinations, and do anything else that needs to be done to ensure her health.”
It looked claustrophobic to Chelsea. The yearling shifted her weight and twisted her head to one side. She couldn’t go far, though, thanks to the bars of the chute keeping her horns trapped. “What do you check for?”
Doctor Emerson gave the animal he’d been examining a hearty pat on the rump. “Longhorns are especially healthy animals. So thankfully, they don’t get sick often. I’m making sure their vaccinations are up to date and then, since this particular lot will be incorporated into the breeding program here, we’re branding them.” He nodded to another man on the other side of the chute.
If Chelsea had known what would happen next, she might have averted her eyes. But without warning, the hot brand was pressed against the yearling’s skin. With a grunt, the animal shifted away from the electric brand and into the side of the chute. Chelsea jumped back, relieved the chute held firm.
Parker reached out and scratched the yearling’s head as though she were a large dog. “Sorry about that, girl,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The walls holding her in place were loosened and the gate in front of her opened. She walked out, trotting across the pen to join two other yearlings that must have already gone through the check-up process.
The scent of burned hair and flesh reached Chelsea’s nostrils and she wrinkled her nose. That combined with the smell of manure didn’t exactly inspire thoughts of dinner. The animals were amazing to watch, though.
“They’re surprisingly graceful for their size.”
Parker turned to face her, his gaze unfocused. “Yes. They are magnificent.” His voice sounded sad. He rubbed a hand across his chest and stepped away.
Chelsea hoped that, by asking questions, she was showing Parker she wanted to learn about the animals and was dedicated to her job.
They spen
t the rest of the workday watching. How often would she be invited to go on these excursions? Chelsea looked down at her new boots. Mud marred the sides of them and she gave a little shrug. At least it wasn’t squishing between her toes this time. Being outside was actually pleasant. And it was almost lonely in the barn by herself. The morning had positively dragged by and being out here was a lot more interesting. She snuck a quick peek at Parker. As much as she hated to admit it, the company could be a lot worse.
Besides, the guy liked dogs and had a way with longhorns. How bad could he be?
~
Satisfied with the clean bill of health Doctor Emerson gave the new additions to the herd, Parker smiled. He shook the good doctor’s hand and thanked him for his work then watched the truck and trailer disappear from sight.
Dad would’ve been happy with this lot. He’d spent most of his free time out here with the longhorns. Parker had vowed he’d grow up to run a ranch dedicated to longhorns. He’d been so sure of those plans as a boy. Until Dad died.
Unwilling to allow the melancholy to take root, he turned to speak with Chelsea and found she’d moved off to the other end of the pen on the opposite side of the cattle. She stood on the lower rung of the railing, her elbows hooked over the top. The breeze caught her hair and whipped it around behind her. Sunshine brought out golden highlights and with the longhorns in the background, the combination was stunning.
Her first day at work had been a joke. It was clear she’d never stepped foot on a farm of any kind. Add in those ridiculous shoes and he’d had a good laugh at her expense when she wasn’t looking. But now…
She’d exchanged her dress pants for a pair of whitewashed denim jeans. The sweater she wore was nice, but practical. And those boots. If a pair of galoshes and a pair of cowgirl boots had offspring, he imagined what she wore would look exactly like that. They were terrible. But they were more practical than the footwear she’d sported the day before. There was something about it all that struck him.
Finding Joy (Love's Compass Book 5) Page 4