by Robin Wells
She'd always longed to live on the sprawling ranch. She'd visited the spread in northeastern Oklahoma every summer during her . childhood, and it was her idea of paradise. She loved working with animals, loved the outdoors, loved the concept of setting her own hours and being her own boss, but she'd never learned anything about the actual business of cattle ranching.
The business she'd learned inside and out was advertising, and she'd grown sick to death of it. She was tired of trying to please impossible clients, tired of coddling temperamental photographers and prima donna models, tired of living in an impersonal crowd of strangers. Most of all, she was tired of using all her waking hours to help some huge, faceless conglomerate sell more kitty litter and underarm deodorant.
She'd wanted to live in a place where she could see the open sky and smell the scent of rain on the wind an hour before it arrived. She'd wanted a job that filled her heart as well as her Day-Timer and her bank account. She'd wanted to do something meaningful, something with lasting merit, something she would look back on with pride and affection when she was old and gray.
She'd wanted, with all her heart and soul, to have a baby.
Unfortunately, no candidates for fatherhood had loomed on the horizon. Her short-lived attempt at marriage had ended nine years earlier. At thirty-one, her biological clock was ticking like a time bomb, but her job as an account executive with a New York ad agency required too many hours and too much travel to make single motherhood a viable option.
Then, her grandparents had died and left her the ranch, and Annie had decided to change her entire life.
Snowball again nosed at Annie's jeans. Annie pulled the comb through the white alpaca's coat one last time, then dug into the front pocket of her faded Levis. "Okay, girl. Here's your treat." The beast eagerly lapped up the sugar cube, tickling the flat of Annie's palm with soft, wet lips.
Ben shook his head. "Those critters are gonna be as spoiled as that old hound dog your grandpa used to keep."
"No, they won't. I don't let them sleep on my bed."
"Not yet. The way you're pamperin' them, though, it's just a matter of time."
Annie smiled and glanced at her watch. "Speaking of time, aren't you and Helen supposed to be on your way to Tulsa?,
Ben placed a booted foot on the bottom rung of the fence rail. "Yep. I came by to tell you we're 'bout to head out. Helen's supposed to be at the hospital for a pre-surgery checkup at four. Elaine's gonna to meet us there. " Elaine was Helen and Ben's grown daughter, who lived in Tulsa with her husband and school-aged children. Ben's potbelly heaved as he sighed. "I'll sure be glad when we get this knee replacement thing behind us."
"Helen will be, too. We talked about it when I dropped by your place this morning to pick up Hot Dog." Annie had agreed to take care of Ben and Helen's friendly miniature dachshund while the couple was gone. "Helen said she can't wait to throw away her cane. She's looking forward to racing you to the fishing hole again."
"I better start trainin', then, so she won't put me to shame." Ben smiled, but it failed to chase the worry from his eyes. He turned his worn hat in his hand. "I sure hate her havin' to go through the surgery and physical therapy an' all, though. If there was any way I could do it for her, I would."
"I know you would," Annie said softly, her heart flooding with emotion. "Helen knows it, too."
Helen was Ben's whole world, and he was just as dear to Helen. The couple had the kind of marriage Annie had always wanted for herself :close, supportive, tender and wane.
As a girl, Annie used to wish her parents' marriage had been more like Ben and Helen's. Annie's mom and dad had been too busy climbing corporate ropes and social ladders to pay much attention to each other or to her. When they did spend time together, they invariably ended up criticizing and belittling each other.
Annie had always been glad to escape her ,parents' bickering for the peacefulness of her grandparents' ranch. The Smiling H was her idea of heaven on earth. As a child, she'd spent her days fishing and swimming in the tree-lined pond with Ben and Helen's children, trailing after Grandpa and Ben as they tended the white- faced cattle, and shucking fresh corn for dinner on the front porch with Gran. She loved waking up to the sound of birds twittering in the tree outside the bedroom window, loved the smell of hay and clover, loved the cool, deep shade of the pine forest that edged the acres of pastureland.
Most of all, she loved the sense of peace and harmony the ranch always offered. No one here cursed or yelled or muttered hateful words under their breath. Grownups looked at each other with kind, warm eyes, and they looked at her the same way. Here on the ranch, everyone worked long and hard, but they still found time to laugh. Most importantly, they all found time for a sad-eyed little girl who'd always felt that her parents' unhappiness was somehow her fault.
Ben shifted his hat again. "Sure you can manage things here alone?"
"I'll be fine," Annie replied. "Besides, I'm not alone. I've got Madeline."
"A fourteen-month-old baby is not exactly a big help." Ben's weathered face creased into a wry grin. "Where is the little rascal, anyway?"
"Napping." The thought of Madeline made her smile. Annie had never known she could love anyone or anything as fiercely as she loved her child. She glanced toward the sprawling rock-and-cedar ranch house, her i eyes reflexively stopping at the window of the baby's bedroom. Madeline had fallen asleep on the thick rug in the center of her room after Annie had curled up with her on it to read story books and sing lullabies.
Annie patted the blue-and-white baby monitor clipped to her belt. "I'm listening to her every move."
"Well, I'll be callin' to check up on you two."
"Don't worry about us. You just take good care of Helen."
Ben nodded. "You do the same for that baby. An' for yourself, for a change. Don't stay holed up out here all alone for the whole three weeks we're gone."
Annie never felt as alone on the ranch as she used to feel in the crowds of New York, but Ben was constantly pestering her to get out and socialize. "I won't. I'll have to go into town for groceries, and I promised Pearl I'd bring Madeline for a visit next week."
Pearl was an old friend of Annie's grandmother. The garrulous elderly woman lived at a nursing home in Lucky, and Annie made a point of visiting her every week. "As a matter of fact," Annie continued, "Pearl's grandson is coming out for a tea leaf reading this afternoon
Ben rolled his eyes. "You're as bad as your grandma."
"I hope I'm as good. She taught me all I know about doing readings."
"Yeah, well, I never put much stock in that hocus-pocus stuff."
"I didn't used to, either. I let Gran give me lessons just to humor her." Annie could still remember the first time her grandmother had mentioned it. It had been the summer she'd turned sixteen. She'd walked into the kitchen late one afternoon and found Gran doing a reading for Pearl.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," Annie had said, backing out the screen door.
Gran had motioned her back in. "Come sit down. It's high-time I, taught you to read leaves.":
"Oh, Gran," Annie had protested. "I don't even know that I believe in it."'
"That's all right," Gran had said. "It believes in you." Gran had fixed her with an intent gaze across the blue- checked tablecloth on the kitchen table. "You've got the gift, girl."
"How do you know?" Annie had flashed her grandmother a teasing smile. "Did you read the bottom of my iced tea glass at lunch?"
"No. I just know." Conviction had shone in Gran's gray eyes. "Some things, a body just knows. The leaves are for the things you don't."
Ben's voice broke into Annie's memories. "I take it you started believin' somewhere along the line."
Annie nodded. "When the leaves helped me make a big decision." She carefully pulled alpaca fleece from the teeth of her comb, then stuffed the wad of hair into a burlap bag hanging on the fence post. "I was worried about quitting my job and moving back here, even though I knew in my hea
rt it was what I wanted to do, so I decided to go to a leaf reader in New York. I made an appointment with a woman I'd never met before—I'd gotten her name off a bulletin board at a coffee shop. I didn't tell her anything about myself or my circumstances. And you know what she told me?" Annie would never forget it as long as she lived. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the big-boned woman leaning over the dainty, stained teacup, still smell the scent of cooked cabbage clinging to the peeling floral wallpaper in the woman's apartment, still hear the next-door neighbors arguing through the paper-thin walls. And when she remembered the woman's words, goose bumps still crawled up her arm.
Ben shook his head. "What?"
"She said I belonged on a ranch. And she said I would soon have a child."
Ben's eyes rested on her, his gaze fond and warm. "Well, I'm awful glad you made the decisions you made, regardless of how you made 'em."
A lump formed in Annie's throat. Ben and Helen were just like family, but she hadn't consulted them about her decision to become a single mother, Like most of the people in this part of rural Oklahoma, they were very conservative, and she hadn't been sure they'd approve. They'd never discussed the decision, but the couple had been incredibly supportive throughout her pregnancy.. They treated Madeline like one of their own grandchildren, and the baby adored them in return.
"The only decision of yours I've ever wondered 'bout has to do with raisin these here critters." Ben cast a doleful eye at Smoky Joe, who was sniffing Ben's Stetson.
Annie grinned as she led Snowball to the gate. "Diversification is the key to the future."
"Yeah, well, maybe. But I don't see why you didn't just diversify into another breed of cattle."
Annie removed the halter from the white alpaca's nose, opened the gate and watched Snowball prance out. "Now, Ben, you know that beef prices are down. Alpaca fleece sells for fourteen dollars an ounce, and the manure goes for a dollar a pound."
"Hmph. Not much of a market for the stuff, from what I can see."
"I don't need much of a market with just five alpacas. And by the time the herd's bigger, why, the demand for alpaca products will be, too." She shot Ben a mischievious grin. "Besides, that tea leaf reader told me that unusual business ventures would pay off."
Ben rolled his eyes. "There you go with that hocus- pocus stuff again."
"Wait and see. I think the alpacas will turn out to be a good investment."
Ben pulled his boot off the fence rail as Smoky Joe scampered into the corral. "I sure hope you're right." He glanced down at his black rubber watch. "Speakin' of waitin', that's what Helen's doin'. I better get goin before she leaves without me."
His tone was light, but Annie saw the worry in his eyes. She placed her hand on the big man's arm. "Everything's going to be fine, Ben., Helen's got one of the best surgeons in the country."
The big man nodded, his eyes on the ground.
"Besides, I did a reading for her, and everything looks wonderful. You know what Gran used to say. `The leaves never lie.' "
"Hmph. Well, this is one time I darn sure hope they don't."
"Look on the bright side," Annie urged. "When this is over, Helen will be able to get around without any pain. She'll be able to work in her garden and go on long walks. Why, she's even talking about dragging you off to square-dancing lessons."
"I hope to high heavens you're right." His mouth slanted into a crooked smile. "'Bout everything except them square-dance lessons, that is."
Annie laughed. "You don't fool me. If Helen wanted you to take up ballet, you'd be strapping on toe shoes and practicing plies."
"Probably so." His smile made his cheeks look like stuffed saddlebags. "But I'd draw the line at wearin' a tutu."
The thought of the potbellied cowboy in pink tulle made Annie laugh again. She leaned forward and hugged his neck. Ben awkwardly patted her back.
"Call me tomorrow and let me know how everything went," Annie said softly.
"I will."
Annie watched him amble away, her prayers goingwith him. As he disappeared around the barn, Smoky
Joe grabbed another mouthful of her hair.
"What are you doing, boy? Trying to give me dreadlocks?" Tugging the strand away from the alpaca, Annie reached into her back pocket and pulled out the Tweety Bird ponytail holder she'd removed from Madeline's hair when she'd put the child down for her nap. Gathering her curls on top of her head, Annie fashioned a high, loose ponytail and secured it with the cartoon-ornamented elastic band.
"All right, fella." She stroked Smoky Joe's muzzle, then picked up the comb. "It's your turn now."
Half an hour later, Annie had finished grooming Smoky Joe. She'd kicked off her shoes and was washing up in the kitchen sink when she heard the crunch of tires in the circle drive in front of the ranch house.
"That must be Pearl's- grandson," she said to the little dachshund at her feet. Hot Dog's long, skinny tail thudded on the hardwood floor. "We'd better get the door before he rings the bell and wakes up Madeline." Drying her hands on a blue dish towel, Annie scurried across the room, flipped on the stove burner under the old copper teapot, then hurried to the front hallway. The dachshund pattered along at her heels.
Annie opened the door, then froze in surprise. Good heavens—this was Pearl's grandson? Nothing about the tall, handsome man on her porch looked like it had come from Pearl's gene pool. That woman was tiny and round, with curly white hair, an upturned nose and slightly crossed blue eyes. Annie had always thought the elderly lady looked like a Pomeranian with a perm.
This man was more like a Russian wolfhound—tall, lean and muscular, with a face of intriguing planes and angles. He must take after his father's side of the family, Annie mused. His nose was straight, his hair was dark, and his mouth....
Annie gazed at it in fascination. His mouth was the most sensuous sight she'd ever seen. It was like Elvis's, only better. His .lips were like Brad Pitt's and Tom Cruise's and Tom Hanks's, all rolled into one soft, hard, kissable package.
She suddenly realized she was staring. Stepping back, she opened the door wider. "Come on in," she whispered. "I've been expecting you."
The man's dark eyebrows flew up in surprise.
Annie assumed he was startled that she was whispering. "We need to keep our voices down so we don't wake the baby," she explained softly.
The man's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.` He gazed at her warily, gave a slow nod, and stepped into the foyer.
The temperature of the room seemed to shoot up twenty or thirty degrees. Annie moved back. She usually wasn't susceptible to good-looking men—in fact, she normally viewed them with suspicion. In her experience, they tended to be spoiled and self-centered. Something about this man, though, cut through all of her normal defenses.
She realized she was once again staring. She hurried to fill the awkward silence. "You, uh, don't look anything like your grandmother."
He looked as if she'd said something odd. "I don't?"
"Not at all." He didn't look like the type of man who'd want his fortune read, either. He was expensively dressed in a dark suit and designer tie, and there was a confident air of authority he wore as well.
Well, Annie thought, it just went to prove you couldn't tell a book by its cover. Pearl had said her grandson was facing some big decisions. In times of trouble, all kinds of people turned to the unexplained. From the tense set of his jaw and the cautious look in his eye, this man was definitely under some stress.
Maybe he was nervous about having his fortune told." Annie stuck out her hand and smiled. "I'm Annie. Pearl didn't tell me your name."
There it was again-that odd hesitation, that strange look. "She didn't?"
«No."
"Oh. Well, I'm Jake." His fingers folded around hers in a strong, tight grip. His hand felt good, like a warm mitten on a cold day. The warmth shot up her arm, through her neck, and across her cheeks.
"Nice to meet you." She looked into his eyes, and another hot current passed
through her. His eyes were a clear, light brown, his eyebrows dark and well-shaped. Something about them looked hauntingly familiar. "Have we met before?"
The oddly familiar eyebrows pulled together. "I don't think so."
Annie didn't, either. He wasn't the type of man she'd be likely to forget. "Maybe we met years ago. Did you ever visit your grandmother during the summer?"
His eyes narrowed warily, as if it were a trick question. "Sometimes."
"Maybe we met when we were both kids."
The poor man looked uneasy and bewildered. Remembering her role as hostess, Annie smiled again and gestured down the foyer. "Come on in. I put on the tea when I heard your car, so it should be ready in few minutes."
Annie led Jake into the antique-filled living room, trying to remember exactly what Pearl had told her about him. The elderly woman had a dozen grandchildren and her mind meandered as she talked, so Annie had never been able to keep any of them straight. All she knew for certain was that this grandson was visiting from out of town.
Annie plucked a stuffed purple dinosaur off the blue-and-white ticking-striped sofa, then gestured for him to sit down.
Jake's gaze settled on the toy in her hand. "How old is your child?"
"Fourteen months."
A strange look crossed his face. "A boy or a girl?"
"A girl."
"A girl," the man muttered softly. "A daughter."
He seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. Annie watched him curiously, a curl of attraction uncoiling in her belly. There was an intensity about him that seemed somehow sexual —a sense of suppressed energy and strong emotion. Her gaze locked on his mouth. She would bet he was one terrific kisser.
Annie abruptly shifted the toy dinosaur to her other hand, hoping to shift her thoughts as well. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so physically drawn to a man.
He turned those familiar-looking brown eyes on her, and she quickly gestured to the sofa. "Please—have a seat," she managed to say.
"After you."
Not just good-looking and sexy, but well-mannered as well. Had Pearl said whether or not he was married?