“You’re welcome to look in the barn, but don’t handle the horses unless one of the staff is around.”
He thought about his odd reaction to Miss Schaffer’s touch. Though twenty-eight, he’d had few dates. Not that he didn’t want to date; he’d just never met a woman who stirred his interest long enough to maintain a long-term relationship. Evan watched her turn and walk back into the other room. Her black capris and pink knit top looked out of place for a dude ranch, and she sounded well educated. Where could she have gone to college way out here? She mumbled something to an older gentleman in the office behind the counter.
The man leaned back in his chair and waved at Evan. “I’m Rob Schaffer. Welcome to Moose Valley.”
Evan nodded and popped the lid of his Coke can. It hissed and sent up a sweet scent. He took a swig, and his gaze followed the young woman as she climbed the stairs to the right of the mercantile. In spite of their rocky start, Evan hoped that he might get to know Bethany Schaffer better. Not that there was any reason to. But she intrigued him. And that was enough to make him want to learn more about her.
❧
“Thought you said you weren’t ever going on another one of these tours.” Big Jim Reynolds gave Bethany a cocky grin and stacked the last crate of supplies into the back of the ranch’s Jeep.
Heat warmed her cheeks. “I know what I said. I’d hoped I’d seen my last trip, but it wasn’t to be.” If she didn’t have to lead this tour, she’d be assembling the new computer and inputting their records onto the new accounting program she’d purchased, but that would have to wait until she returned.
Bethany slung her gear onto the back passenger seat and glanced at the crates of supplies. She’d checked through all the boxes last night and made sure they had everything on the list. She closed the side door, grateful to have the vehicle leading the way. There had been a time or two on past treks that the truck had been needed in case of an emergency. She hoped they wouldn’t have to deal with anything that severe on this trip.
“Hey, kiddo.”
She spun around at the sound of her father’s voice. “Where are you going?”
He patted his chest pocket and smiled. “The bank. That schoolteacher gave us a nice, fat check.”
“Whew! Let’s not cut it so close next time.”
“Hopefully, there won’t be a next time.”
She watched him amble to his pickup, and then she turned to study the group of guests gathered round, waiting to leave for the first day of the two-week tour. A boy who looked to be around thirteen sneaked up behind two girls and waved a lizard in their faces. The girls squealed and chased him around a parked car.
Bethany scanned the crowd of teenagers, mostly decked out in new cowboy or mountain boots, jeans, and long-sleeved shirts. Several sported fleece-lined vests or had jackets tied around their waists. It may be summer, but at an elevation of over seven thousand feet, the days could be cool and the nights just plain cold. Satisfied that everyone had complied with the rules to bring some type of outerwear, she headed for her wagon.
“You get him, Lacy,” a tall boy yelled at the girls who were still trying to catch the boy with the lizard. Suddenly he stopped and turned around with the lizard pointed outward in one hand. The girls skidded to a stop on the rocky ground, screamed, and ran the other direction. A group of boys howled with laughter.
Bethany shook her head. They wouldn’t be so loud and feisty tomorrow morning after the excitement wore off, their iPods had run out of power, and they grew bored with the view of the forest and mountains. It was always the same, trip after boring trip. She rubbed the back of her stiff neck. The only workers staying behind besides her dad were the dining room cook, one maid to clean the rooms of the few ranch guests not going on the wagon tour, and the ranch foreman. Never in her memory had they ever been stretched so thin.
And it was all her fault.
No, it wasn’t completely her fault. Dad could have made payments on those loans or left them for her just as she’d planned. The check from the school group would help, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.
Bethany crossed the graveled parking lot and examined the wagon she’d be driving. She checked the harnesses, knowing Big Jim didn’t need her supervising, but it was a habit she’d formed at fifteen when she’d first helped lead tours.
“Gather around, everybody.” Behind her, a woman shouted at all the school kids and their parents. “I have your wagon assignments.” She rattled off a list of names, and a noisy group of adults and teens headed for the first wagon.
Bethany wasn’t sure why she was relieved when Evan Parker’s niece headed for the second wagon instead of the final one that Bethany would be driving, but not having to ride with the computer geek and his bad-attitude niece was fine with her. She double-checked the ties that held up the sides of the wagon’s canvas top to allow their guests to enjoy the breathtaking views. The wagon creaked as it filled with passengers. The rubber tires, which provided a smoother ride, looked fully aired up. Everything was a go.
She climbed up to her bench seat and noticed a small tear in the canvas canopy. That would have to be repaired. If it got much larger, the whole wagon cover might have to be replaced. Bethany picked up the leather reins and watched the city slickers climb into wagon number two. Taylor Anderson was the last in line and chatted with another girl about the same size as her. Taylor looked over her shoulder as if searching for someone. A boy, probably. Wasn’t that all most junior high girls were interested in?
Bethany had enjoyed meeting the boys who came to the ranch, but she’d never dated until she’d gone away to school. College. She exhaled a heavy sigh. If only her dad hadn’t felt it necessary to pay off her college loans. She had never expected him to do so. Must go back to his heritage of caring for his own and not wanting to owe anybody anything. A man had to stand on his own two feet, he often said.
She breathed in a chest full of fresh air—so much cleaner than Denver’s—and pulled her hair back, wrapped a thin elastic band around it, and stuck her hat back on. It might take her longer than she had planned to get things running smoothly again at the ranch. Would her new boss be willing to let her start a few weeks later than originally scheduled?
Big Jim stood outside the first wagon, next to the teacher who appeared to be counting heads. Her totals would have to agree with his before they took one step out of the parking lot. One of Bethany’s draft horses shook his head and pawed the ground, eager to be off. The chatter level in the back of the wagon was high enough to send any country girl out into the wilderness in search of quiet. She’d learned long ago to put it out of her mind—but back then she’d been dreaming of her future away from the ranch.
“Someone’s missing from this group,” the teacher said. She held up her index finger and counted the people in the second wagon again and then looked at her chart. “There are only twelve in this wagon, but there should be thirteen.”
Jim ambled over and counted, confirming that someone was missing.
Taylor Anderson leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. Now that Bethany thought of it, she hadn’t seen the girl’s uncle once this morning. The memory of how her heart jumped as she looked into his startling blue eyes still made her pulse kick up a notch even now. Maybe he was tall and appealing with his lightly tanned skin and messed-up hair, but he sure was an oddball. A door slammed, and a man came jogging out the front door of the main lodge. He cradled a backpack in his arms like a baby and had a sleeping bag dangling from one hand and a duffel bag hanging over one shoulder.
Bethany shook her head as Evan Parker hurried toward the group, wearing a wrinkled oxford cloth shirt, khakis, and a worn pair of tennis shoes. She shook her head. On every trip she picked out the greenest of the greenhorns, and on this trip, it was definitely Evan Parker. Oh, he was cute enough with his short brown hair sprouting in different directions as if he’d just run his hand through it and those sky blue eyes, but he was city through and through.
/> The teacher saw him coming and glared in his direction, but she sashayed to Bethany’s wagon and started counting. Big Jim cast a glance over his wide shoulder then looked up at Bethany, brows lifted. He shook his head and seemed to be stifling a smile.
A movement near the barn snagged Bethany’s attention. A familiar reddish brown Rhode Island Red rooster strutted out of the barn, as if to say he was being left behind. “You forgot Ed.”
Jim shook his head. “I didn’t forget him. I just didn’t want to have to listen to him squawking any longer than I had to. Soon as we’re done counting, I’ll catch him.”
Ed added a dose of realism to the trip with his early morning cock-a-doodles. Some of their patrons loved the effect while others despised the crotchety old bird. Bethany pulled her attention back to Mr. Parker. He slowed his pace as he crossed into the parking lot, a look of relief on his face.
Ed suddenly made a beeline for the man, squawking and flapping his wings. Taylor’s uncle didn’t see the bird, which was coming up fast behind him.
Bethany stood, hoping to stop the man from getting pecked.
“Look out!” someone yelled from the first wagon.
Mr. Parker glanced over his shoulder at the same time Ed attacked his heel. He high-stepped toward the wagon, slapping the sleeping bag at the aggressive rooster and holding his backpack tight against his chest. Bethany bit her top lip to keep from laughing, but that didn’t stop the teens in the wagons. Kids leaned out from the two wagons ahead, and Bethany felt her own tip to the left as people rushed to see. Cheers erupted, for both the bird and the man.
“Oh dear. Help me up.” The teacher hurried into the back of Bethany’s wagon with one of the guest’s assistance.
Mr. Parker glanced wide-eyed from wagon to wagon, and Bethany pointed at the one ahead of her. He pranced toward the wagon and leaped up the steps, collapsing in the seat across from Taylor.
Big Jim shook his head and grabbed the flapping rooster from behind as the laughter slowly died out. Taylor Anderson leaned back on the padded seat that ran along the right side of the wagon, looking as if she’d like to disappear. Evan Parker peered out the back of the wagon, and something like relief passed over his face when he saw Jim snag the rooster. He smiled at his niece and said something that made her roll her eyes and look away. He dropped his duffel bag to the floor and opened his backpack.
Bethany felt her eyes go wide as he pulled out a laptop. Never in all of her years at the ranch had anyone taken a computer on one of their tours. He leaned back on the seat, lifted his left ankle, and rested it on his knee. Then he set the computer on his lap, lifted the top, and waited until the screen lit up. After a few moments, his fingers zipped along at a fast pace, and the man seemed oblivious to his surroundings. What was so important on that computer that it couldn’t wait for a few weeks?
She’d known the first time she saw Evan Parker that he’d most likely be the greenest of the city slickers. But not even she could have imagined this.
Three
Evan pursed his lips and hit the Save button. His last battery pack was almost out of power, and it was better to save the work he’d just completed and shut down the system than risk running totally out of juice and losing it. The computer fan ceased blowing. He closed the lid on his laptop and looked around. When the wagons had first left the ranch yard, the noise level had been so high he’d found it difficult to work, but once in his groove, he was able to tune out everyone. Typing while riding in a jostling wagon on a rutted road had been a whole other issue.
He stretched his arms, working the kinks out of his shoulders, and smiled at Taylor. She glared at him, crossed her arms, and looked out the back of the wagon. Uh-oh, looks like I’ve done something wrong. Again. He turned sideways and stared out the back of the wagon at the amazing view. A thick forest of dark green gave way to a trio of peaks that lifted their faces high into the sky. They were so tall that they still had snow on them. Were they the Tetons? He should know.
Following his wagon, Bethany Schaffer drove the last wagon. The pretty woman leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and the reins dangling in her hands. A dark brown Western hat shaded her face, and she appeared deep in thought. He figured it didn’t take much effort to drive one of the Conestoga replicas. The horses were probably used to following the wagon in front of them.
“Whoa!” a man’s voice called out from somewhere up ahead. Evan’s wagon slowed.
“Sure is pretty out here, isn’t it, Mr. Parker?”
Evan glanced across the wagon at Mrs. James. The thirty-something brunette had been making eyes at him ever since she arrived at Moose Valley and had learned that he was single. He didn’t want to encourage her but neither did he want to be rude. He shoved his laptop into the padded backpack, picked up his duffel bag, and glanced at her. “Uh. . .yeah. Real pretty.”
She blushed. His gut twisted. She must have misconstrued his comment.
“What do we do now?” Mrs. James’s daughter asked.
Taylor leaned forward. “I heard there was a lake we could swim in. I’m ready to get out of this wagon and do something fun.”
Make that two. Evan climbed out and looked around. More than a dozen tents were mounted on wooden platforms in the grassy field. A brilliant blue lake was nestled at one end of the narrow valley and surrounded by mountains. He’d never been anywhere so. . .wild. He hugged his laptop nestled in his backpack. Surely there had to be a power source up here somewhere.
Taylor stood behind the black Jeep and waited her turn to claim her duffel bag. She smiled at Misty Chamberlain, her best friend, and Evan’s heart warmed to see her happy. If not for her, he’d hightail it back to civilization.
Next month he’d be twenty-nine. On the same day, Taylor would be fifteen. She’d always been special because she’d been born on his birthday, but in the past year she’d morphed into someone he barely recognized. He hiked his duffel bag onto his shoulder. He was praying hard that this rebellious stage she was going through would be a short one.
Sighing, he watched Bethany Schaffer hop down from the wagon. She patted her team of horses and fiddled with one of the leather harnesses. What about her attracted him? After Sheri Carson dumped him for Mike-the-muscleman his sophomore year in college, he’d rarely dated. Keeping his nose in a computer was safer than risking his heart and letting it crash like a hard drive infected with a nasty virus.
“C’mon, Uncle Evan. Aren’t you going swimming?” His niece’s dark brows lifted in challenge.
“Uh. . .shouldn’t we find out where our tent is first?”
Taylor hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder and tucked her sleeping bag under one arm. She pointed toward the middle of the tents. “It’s that one over there. Number five. We’re sharing it with Alison Perry and her dad.”
He followed his niece up a trail into a tent erected on top of a three-foot-high wooden platform. How was he supposed to share this single room with two teenage girls?
“Chill, Uncle Evan. Look.” Taylor pointed toward the tent top. “There’s a room divider we can unroll. I’ll sleep on this side with Alison, and you and her dad can have that side.”
Evan set his bag on one of the cots, feeling only marginally better. A thin cloth didn’t seem like enough of a barrier between him and two noisy teens. How was he supposed to get any work done?
Outside, he heard a rooster crow and looked down at his tennis shoes to see if the crazy bird had left peck marks. He sure hoped they left that crazy attack-critter in its cage. He shook his head and let out a heavy breath. Was he ever out of his element!
The tent held four cots, and its sides were rolled up to let in the warm breeze. A gas lantern that sat on a small table separating the two beds on each side was the only source of light. Stairs leading out the back of the tent platform pulled him that direction. Behind and off to the left was a bathhouse and restroom facilities. The big man who captured the rooster walked behind the building, and a moment later, Evan heard the ro
ar of a generator kick to life. Maybe they’d have warm water for showers—and a plug-in for his battery pack.
Mountains rose up in splendor behind the bathhouse. God sure had made this place beautiful. His gaze lifted to the sky, and he thought of how he’d skipped church the past two Sundays to work on his project. Guilt wormed its way through him, not for the first time. “Sorry, Lord. I promise to do better.”
“What did you say?” Taylor peeked around the curtain and held it against her chin.
“Tay–lor!” Alison squealed, even though he hadn’t so much as a glimpse of her.
“Nothing,” he said.
“You’d better get ready if you’re going swimming.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Didn’t know I’d need one.”
“Too bad.” The curtain dropped back into place, and Taylor disappeared again. He heard her whisper something to her friend but couldn’t make it out. Both girls giggled.
A short, thin man clomped up the front steps. He nodded and dropped his pack onto the empty cot. He held out his hand. “Charley Perry.”
“Evan Parker.”
The man’s brows dipped. “Are you Taylor’s father?”
Taylor snorted on the other side of the curtain—at least he thought it was her. Evan shook his head. “I’m her uncle.”
“Nice to meet you. I was sitting in the front of your wagon, but you never looked up from your laptop.”
“Sorry.” Evan shrugged. “I’m on a tight deadline.”
“Good luck with that up here. Don’t know where you’re going to find power for the next two weeks.” He turned away and pulled some clothes and a flashy swimsuit from his duffel bag.
Evan wasn’t ready to give up working on his project just yet, but things weren’t looking too good. They weren’t even a full day away from the ranch, and already they had no electricity.
Wagonload Of Trouble Page 3