The Rancher Next Door

by Betsy St. Amant

  Brady cleared his throat. “Ava and I need to get home for supper. It’s going to be the last decent one we have for a while.” Oops. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. He must be more tired than he thought.

  Ava’s eyes narrowed with suspicion—probably because she knew he couldn’t boil a pot of water to save anyone’s life. “No luck finding me a sitter?”

  “Not yet.” He ran a hand over his jaw, the stubble whisking across his palm. “I’m going to have to—”

  “What about Caley?” The sparkle in Ava’s eyes burst into a roaring flame of hope as she brought both hands up to her chin in a pleading position. “I mean, Miss Caley.”

  “Me?” Caley pulled slightly away from Ava to look at her more directly, overly dramatized shock radiating from her eyes. “Babysit? You?”

  Ava’s face fell. “Is it that bad of an idea?”

  Yes. Brady opened his mouth to speak the truth, to tell Ava that there was no way Caley needed to come over to their house—his domain—and take care of them. Feed them. Clean up after them.

  Invade his territory with her cinnamon scent and uncanny ability to stir feelings long dormant.

  “I’m kidding!” Caley laughed and hip-bumped Ava, who bounced off her side, giggling. “I think it’s a perfect idea!” Then she sobered. “As long as your dad thinks so, of course.” As if on cue, both of them linked arms and turned doe eyes on him.

  Perfect idea? More like the worst. He needed a kind older woman who was in agreement with his firm rules for Ava—not a hip young woman who acted more like Ava’s older sister than an adult. Ava didn’t need fun right now. She needed structure. Security.

  Safety.

  So did he. One look at the playful pout turning down Caley’s full lips, and safe was the last thing Brady felt. Something about Caley seemed way too dangerous. Not in an ax-murderer-next-door kind of way, but in a she’s-gonna-weasel-into-your-heart kind of way. He hadn’t thought much about romance since Jessica’s death—who had the time between the frequent guilt trips and running a ranch?—but Caley’s teasing eyes and trim figure coaxed to life embers he’d thought long dead. Being around her any more than necessary seemed incredibly risky.

  And he didn’t take risks.

  “It’s not just babysitting, Ava. It’s cooking and housekeeping, too.”

  Caley shrugged. “I’m still in.”

  He started shaking his head, mind racing through the implications of letting Caley that close, until Ava piped up once again. “Dad, who else is there to hire at the last minute? Miss Caley just said today that she needed to find a job soon. This works for everyone!”

  It did, didn’t it? How did one argue against such youthful logic? Brady began to wish he’d just stayed outside with Scooter instead of being ganged up on by two insistent females. But maybe the idea was a decent one. He’d be outside most of the time, anyway, and Ava and Caley already had an evident bond. He’d just been thinking that it’d be good for Ava to have a womanly influence. Just because Caley wasn’t blue-haired and bifocaled didn’t mean she couldn’t be a positive role model. She was here to take care of her sick grandma, after all. And she was obviously capable.

  “I do need the work, and with it being temporary, it seems ideal.” Caley’s curved eyebrows rose with prompting. “I have nanny experience from college, and I’m a licensed EMT.”

  Well, he wouldn’t find better credentials than that through the church.

  His gaze darted to his daughter, whose pleading expression froze the rest of his resistance. He couldn’t tell her no again. If spending time with Caley made Ava happy, he’d find a way to survive the next few weeks. How hard could it be? At least he’d get a hot meal without having to order pizza every night for the next month. And who knew—maybe he and Caley could be friends.

  Just friends.

  “Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Brady held up both hands to fend off Ava’s excited squeal as she jumped up and down. “Caley, you can start Monday. Ava is out from school the first half of next week for teacher conferences, so she can show you the ropes at the house. And to be fair, I’ll pay you what I was paying Mary.” He named the figure, and Caley nodded with approval.

  “I’d have done it for less.” She winked, and Ava laughed out loud. Brady bit back a groan. He was in trouble, all right. Trouble with a capital C.

  Yet as he caught the two blondes’ excited high five, he decided trouble couldn’t come in a cuter package.

  Chapter Three

  Caley really hoped she didn’t regret this.

  She stared up at the beautiful, sprawling Double C ranch house and paused before knocking on the solid oak door. Birds chirped a welcoming chorus she wasn’t certain Brady would agree with. His hesitation at hiring her had caught her off guard. Was it just because she was a near stranger? If he was worried about that, though, he wouldn’t have let Ava help her unpack for a few hours. So if not safety or trust, then was it her ability? Maybe he doubted her capability in the house. Well, she’d show him. She might not be a gourmet chef, but she’d learned some good recipes over the years of her life on the go, and she obviously knew how to wield a duster.

  She straightened her spine and knocked. For her first day, she’d whip up Nonie’s secret-ingredient chocolate chip cookies. That’d show him.

  But why she felt such a strong urge to prove herself to Brady—impress him, even, if she was honest—she couldn’t say.

  The door flew open, and Ava’s beaming smile swept away Caley’s insecurities. She wasn’t here for Brady, cookies or not, approval or not. She was here for this sweet little girl who needed quality care and a positive female influence in her life. As long as she remembered that, they’d be just fine. She’d get a paycheck while waiting to hear about a job from the fire department, and Ava would get plenty of girl time.

  Brady would probably just get a headache, but that was his own fault.

  “Come on in!” Ava practically squealed as she grabbed Caley’s arm and pulled her through the doorway. “I cleaned my room. Dad told me I had to. I think he didn’t want to scare you off before you even started.”

  She giggled, and the enthusiasm in her expression made Caley almost want to go back and agree to babysit for free, after all. But she enjoyed electricity and food.

  “Sounds good. Let’s go see it.” She squeezed Ava’s hand and followed the girl toward the straight staircase leading up to the second floor. On her way, she cast a quick glance over the nearly suffocatingly pristine living room. Full bookshelves surrounded the TV on both sides, the top shelves reserved for an obviously cherished collection of bronze horse and cowboy statues. The furniture, while not new by any means, seemed as if it’d been kept up neatly. Caley made a mental note—no snacking in the living room. A worn but clean rug covered the hardwood floor under a dark-chocolate-colored coffee table, yet hardly any art decorated the walls besides a lone school picture over a side table near the front door. Talk about a man’s domain.

  A neat-freak man, at that.

  Ava’s room was a different story. In fact, Caley would have loved to have seen it before she cleaned it. It would’ve been like viewing a train wreck. Trash spilled from the overflowing purple wastebasket beside a short desk probably meant for homework, but covered in the remnants of an abandoned art project. Novels and textbooks on horses and farm animals were stacked haphazardly beside—not on—the short purple bookshelf, and a herd of stuffed animals grazed at all angles atop the wrinkled, crooked, purple-and-green floral bedspread. Toys peeked from beneath the bed, and a jumble of puzzle pieces had been shoved under the desk. Every drawer on the dresser was partially open with clothes hanging out.

  While the room definitely needed more attention, Caley couldn’t help but smile at the ways Ava and her father were so drastically different—and yet cringe at the myriad ways this would inevitably cause m
ore problems between the two of them. Maybe she could somehow help Ava find a balance between being herself and pleasing her father.

  “What do you think?” Ava spun a slow circle in the center of her room, eyes narrowed critically. “Dad said he’d hang those glow-in-the-dark stars above my bed soon, but he hasn’t yet.”

  “I think that would be awesome.” Caley moved to perch on the edge of the bed and looked up. “They’d be perfect right there.” She pointed.

  “I concur.” Brady’s deep voice broke the silence as he peered around the door frame at them, his dark hair falling across his forehead without the presence of his cowboy hat. Caley ignored the tingles in her stomach. “But I told Ava she had to keep her room clean enough to see the ceiling first.”

  “Da-ad.” Ava’s tone stretched the word into several syllables, tinted with embarrassment. “It’s not that bad. See?” She gestured around the room, and Caley suddenly realized the closet door actually bulged a little.

  “It’s been worse.” Brady crossed his arms across the front of his plaid work shirt, muscles cording beneath the rolled-up sleeves. “But it’s been better. I don’t want you to put this off on Miss Caley. She’s here to clean for us, but that’s just basic upkeep.” His penetrating gaze registered on her, drawing her in despite her initial reserve. “I don’t expect you to clean to this degree.” An unfamiliar twinkle slowly lit his expression. “I don’t think a landfill worker could be expected to clean to this degree.”

  “I don’t mind.” The words slipped from her lips before she could edit them, and she told herself it was just because of her desire to see Ava and her dad get along—and not based on any desire to make him happy personally. Caley shook her head. What was wrong with her? She’d better curb this one-sided attraction now. Brady was essentially her boss—at least until the fire department let her know what was going on. She still needed to put in some volunteer hours—not to mention spend time with her grandmother, the sole reason she was back in this town in the first place. Somehow, she’d work it all in. She had to keep her eye on the greater goals—future employment with the fire department and quality time with her blood family.

  Regardless of the immediate future, this arrangement with Brady—no, Ava—was most definitely temporary.

  She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt, as she stood up from the bed. “It’ll be fine. Ava and I can make it into a project.” She’d need to borrow a wheelbarrow. And that big green tractor she saw parked outside earlier. But she liked taking risks. She cast another glance at the closet door. Big risks. “What do you say, Ava?”

  Ava shrugged good-naturedly. “Whatever it takes to get my stars. Besides, it’d be much more fun to do it with you than with—” Her voice trailed off as she shot a glance at her father and looked quickly away, red tinting her cheeks.

  Brady’s gaze darted to the ground, then back up, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I just came in to say hi and welcome.” He nodded, all hint of his former teasing gone from his eyes. “If you need anything, Ava can help you find it, or you can holler at me later. I’ll be in for dinner at six-thirty.”

  He was gone from sight before he even finished speaking the words, yet the hurt in his tone lingered long after.

  Caley waited, wondering if Ava would address the new elephant in the room, but the young girl simply pressed her lips together into a tight line and released a sigh through her nose. She clearly hadn’t meant to hurt her dad’s feelings, but as Caley well knew, sometimes honesty drove a sharp knife. Hopefully Brady wouldn’t take it personally. What ten-year-old girl wouldn’t rather clean her room with her new babysitter than with her rule-bearing father?

  Somehow, though, the tension in the room suggested a lot more behind the scenes than that.

  “Time to clean, huh?” Ava’s dismal voice suggested she’d rather go muck out the stalls in the barn—and judging from their past conversations, she’d literally prefer it. But her dad wouldn’t allow her to venture toward the animals. Did they agree on anything?

  Caley gathered her inner resolve. She’d do whatever she could to make this fun for them both. She nodded, shoving her hands in her back pockets and feigning a grave expression. “I believe so. Why don’t you show me where the trash bags are?” She waited until Ava caught her eye, then she winked. “And I’ll find the chocolate.”

  The smile now back on Ava’s face was more than worth the overwhelming task before them.

  * * *

  Brady couldn’t decide if he was more coated in dust or annoyance.

  “I caught him.” His longtime best friend and only hired hand, Max Ringgold, looped Nugget’s reins around the hitching post outside the barn, then slapped at the dirt clinging to Brady’s shirtsleeves and back. “He came barreling through here like a Thoroughbred. I’d have been worried if I hadn’t seen you hobbling after him a minute later.” Max’s brow pinched in mock concern. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to take shelter during a dust storm?”

  “Funny.” Brady stepped away from the good-natured beating his friend doled out. “I’ll remember that next time.” As if he’d had a lot of choices out in the middle of the pasture, without a horse or even a saddle blanket to toss over his head. It figured that he left his bandanna in the house today of all days.

  “Too bad you weren’t in the barn like I was when it blew through.” Max’s smile broadened. He was clearly finding way too much humor in his boss’s appearance.

  Brady squinted off at the now calm pastures, then aimed a pointed look at his friend. “Too bad someone didn’t warn their boss.”

  “What, you think I’m in the barn watching the Weather Channel?” Max adjusted the black hat on his head, still grinning. “That dust storm spiraled up in the fields from nowhere and left just as quickly.”

  Max was right. It’d been unavoidable. All part of the unknowns of working a ranch—and another reason that just confirmed his instincts to keep Ava in the house, where it was safe. Away from unpredictable weather and brush fires and even more unpredictable animals—like Nugget, who had thrown him off at the first ruffle of wind. Blasted creature had gone running to the safety of the barn—leaving Brady to walk after him, gritting dirt between his teeth.

  “I’m surprised you’re getting anything done out here anyway, with the new nanny inside.” Max winked. “I’m sure she’s capable, but may I say, she’s a far cry from Ms. Mary.”

  A sprig of jealousy burst into full bloom. He knew his friend was just teasing, but for some reason, it rubbed him wrong. He forced a smile to look friendly, but his tone was all boss. “The new nanny is off-limits.” For both of them. For multiple reasons.

  But especially for Max.

  Max sidestepped as Nugget reached over to nibble the grass near his boots. “You know me, man. I’m just a sucker for a pretty face. I don’t act on it.”

  Brady snorted. “You have before.” He ticked off names on his finger. “Brenda. Lucy. Michelle.”

  Max shook his head, hands up in surrender. “They weren’t fellow employees.” He shaded his eyes against the sun and looked over at the main house, as if trying to get a glimpse inside. “She’s just temporary, though, right?”

  Brady’s jaw tightened and Max laughed. “I’m kidding, boss. Sorry, I guess I wouldn’t be in a joking mood if I looked like you, either.” He gave Brady’s shoulder another hearty pat, and more dirt puffed from his sleeve. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of the dust bunny here.” He gestured to Nugget.

  “You might want to brush off his tack, too.” Brady strode toward the house, his tone leaving no question about who was in charge. He loved Max like a brother, but sometimes he wondered if hiring his best friend was a smart move. Too often they blurred the line between respect and fun, and Brady had a hard time sharpening it back into focus. He had to admit, though, if Max had been teasing about any other
girl from church or town, he couldn’t have cared less. Something about Caley was different, and that made him as skittish as Nugget had been in the storm.

  Hopefully things were going better in the house than they had been for him outside. The girls wouldn’t be expecting him until later this evening for supper, but he couldn’t keep doing his chores for the remainder of the afternoon until he brushed his teeth and changed shirts.

  Brady strode into the house, the back door banging shut behind him harder than he meant to let it. Ava and Caley looked up with a start from the kitchen counter, where a mass of something that might be cookie dough clung to a greased sheet in tiny, uneven mounds. Ava had flour smeared on her cheeks, and a speckle of dough clung to the apron Caley had donned over her top and jeans. They both looked at him, then at their own mess, and laughed.

  “I didn’t know it was flouring outside, too.” Caley clapped her hands together and a puff of white powder flurried into the air.

  Brady couldn’t stay frustrated about his current condition, or even Max—not with the three of them looking the way they all did. He cracked a smile and brushed at his jeans. Dirt showered onto the floor. “Something like that.”

  “Hey, Caley just swept that.” Ava’s indignant defense lost its merit when she was covered in flour. She handed her dad the broom leaning against the kitchen wall.

  Caley snatched it back before Brady could figure out how to get to his room to change without tracking more dirt everywhere. “No worries. We should have waited until after the cookies were done, anyway. This was a bigger mess than I thought.”

  “Those are cookies?” Brady raised an eyebrow. Who’d have thought? His stomach rumbled with protest. It might turn out that Mary and Caley were opposites in more ways than he’d expected.

  Caley snorted. “Supposed to be. We’ll see when they get out of the oven. It’s a recipe my grandmother made for me my entire childhood, but...I think I forgot something.” She poked at one of the mounds with a spoon—it didn’t budge. She wrinkled her nose. “Or maybe we just should start over.”