by Verna Clay
***
Wade glanced at the beauty from the corner of his eye. A dimple indented one cheek when she smiled at something obviously personal. Beneath lovely arched black brows, azure eyes glanced quickly at him and darted away. He'd never seen eyes that shade of blue. Crap! What had the employment agency been thinking to stick a beauty like her in a cow town in the middle of nowhere to care for an emotionally challenged child, and oversee the household of a ranch? She probably wouldn't even last the two days he'd previously calculated.
Wade led her to his decades old rusty Ford pickup and set her suitcases in the back. Sam, his ancient hound, sat stoically in the bed among a bale of hay, ropes of varying lengths, a tool chest, and several empty coke cans. When she reached to pet Sam, he warned, "Careful; he don't take well to strangers."
As if to make him a liar, Sam sidled over to the woman's hand and licked it like she was his best friend.
"Now, aren't you a sweetheart," she cooed, while his dog shivered and wagged his tail uncontrollably.
Wade had never seen Sam take to anyone the way he'd taken to her, and it pissed him off. The hound actually cried when she turned to enter the cab. She wasn't tall; maybe 5'2" and Wade cringed when he realized he'd have to help her into the cab. He sighed and placed his hands around her tiny waist to give her a boost. As soon as her butt hit the seat, he jerked his hands away.
He rounded the old truck and easily hoisted himself into the driver's seat. When he turned the ignition, Sam barked and circled the bed of the truck. He pulled out of the small airport parking lot and headed west of the town of Cortez, Colorado, population just under 9,000.
The silence in the cab grew uncomfortable. The woman finally broke it by saying, "So, Mr. Spencer, why don't you tell me about Zoe and your ranch?"
Wade didn't want to waste his breath since she'd be leaving soon, but he couldn't see any way not to answer without appearing rude. "Zoe's seven, and, as I'm sure the agency told you, a troubled child. The death of her mother when she was five changed her from a happy little girl into…well, let's just say she can be challenging. She's been analyzed by every kind of doctor imaginable and nothing's helped. They want to put her on medication, but I refuse." He paused to inhale. "As far as the ranch, it was started by my great-grandfather, and originally named Broken Heart Ranch, because his young wife died shortly after he purchased the land. He remarried and my grandfather was his only child. The ranch passed to my father when he was in his twenties because of my grandfather's untimely death, and shortly thereafter, my grandmother's too. When my father asked my mother to marry him, one of her conditions before accepting his proposal, was that the ranch be renamed. She said she wanted to change the karma of the land. My dad was so head-over-heels for my mom, that he said she could name it whatever she wanted, and since she loved dreamcatchers, that's how the ranch got its new name. Unfortunately, the karma didn't change and she died when I was ten, and my father, in his grief, removed all her dreamcatchers. I inherited the property when he died ten years ago. It's a cattle ranch, which is a lot of hard work." Wade wanted to kick himself for being such a motor mouth and didn't understand why he was blathering. He clamped his mouth shut.
"What a sad, but lovely story," the nanny responded. "Thank you for telling me."
Silence filled the cab again.
Unexpectedly, she asked, "Why don't you like me?"
Wade choked. "Uh…I don't know what you mean?"
"Yes, you do. You discounted me the moment you saw me."
Wade was caught like a deer in headlights. He could either lie or fess up. He cleared his throat. "Ah, well, you see, we go through nannies like water. Longest any of 'em stuck around was two weeks. And when I saw you, I thought…"
"Yes?"
Wade spit out the words, "I thought you probably wouldn't have the stamina to care for Zoe and run a household. You're kinda…small." He felt his face burn. He'd wanted to say: You're gorgeous, so what the hell are you doing at a cattle ranch instead of posing for a Hollywood camera?
She replied, "So size matters?"
Wade almost drove his truck off the road. He jerked the wheel back and glanced in the rear view mirror, watching a dust cloud swirl. He sneaked a glance at the woman. Was she being facetious? Her face looked as innocent as a babe's.
"Ah, no, I guess not," he said lamely.
"Good, then let's not worry about what I'm capable of."
Wade took a deep breath. God, where was this woman from? Who talked like that? Maybe it was just him. His voice cracked when he said, "So, you've had lots of experience with kids?"
"Yes, over the years, I have."
"Why did you choose this profession?"
"I guess you could say it kind of chose me. It's something I was born to do."
Born to babysit and clean house? She's a strange one.
CHAPTER 3:
BANSHEE
The moment they stepped onto the wide porch of the two-story ranch house, Eileen Porter, Wade's closest neighbor from three miles down the road, scurried through the door looking flustered.
"She just started that yellin' when you drove up." Eileen looked beyond Wade to the new nanny and her eyebrows almost hit her hairline.
Wade sighed. "Thanks Eileen. I appreciate you watching Zoe while I picked up Ms. Woods." Looks like Zoe's gonna send Ms. Woods packin' sooner'n later.
"I'll call you this evening Wade to check on Zoe." Mrs. Porter gave another curious glance at the caregiver before extending her hand and saying, "Pleased to meet ya."
Wade tipped his Stetson. "Excuse me, ladies. I'll leave you to the introductions while I check on Zoe."
He entered the house and heard Ms. Woods say, "I'm Fawn Woods and I'm pleased to meet you Eileen, but I should probably go with Mr. Spencer to help with Zoe." Halfway up the stairs Wade heard the screen door open and close. He entered Zoe's bedroom to find her sitting in the middle of her pink princess bedspread shrieking like a banshee. She had her hands over her ears, shouting, "Leave me alone. Stop talking to me."
Wade sat beside her and placed his arm around her thin shoulders. "Honey, it's okay. It's Daddy."
She continued shrieking. "Make them stop talking! Make them stop talking!"
He looked up to see Ms. Woods standing in the doorway and shook his head. "It may take some time for her to calm down." She nodded her understanding.
Wade expected her to flee back downstairs, but instead, she walked to the bed and sat on the other side of Zoe, smoothing her hand across his child's forehead and speaking soothingly. "Hello, Zoe. My name is Fawn and I'm here for you."
Zoe continued shrieking, and, helpless to do anything, Wade held her tightly against his side, listening to Ms. Wood's calming words. Hell, he needed to hear a calming voice himself. Unexpectedly, Zoe turned her face into the new sitter's bosom and mellowed her shrieks. Ms. Woods wrapped her arms around Zoe.
Wade's mouth went slack. He'd never seen Zoe stop yelling so abruptly or take to a new person so easily. He glanced at Ms. Woods with narrowed eyes, and then his stomach hit the floor. The smile she absentmindedly bestowed on him over the top of Zoe's head almost made him believe in angels.
Suddenly, Zoe quieted and pushed away from Ms. Woods. "Okay, they stopped. Are you my new nanny? You're really pretty and so are your colors. I bet my daddy thinks you're pretty, too." Zoe stood, seemingly dismissing both of them and walked to her book case. She retrieved a book and sat cross-legged on the floor, reading it as if he and Fawn weren't in the room.
Ms. Woods stared at Zoe for a few seconds then left the room. He followed her downstairs. "Umm…I'll get your suitcases." He was glad for something to do.
After retrieving her belongings, he led her through the large living room with its old, worn furnishings, and through the attached formal dining room into the kitchen. On the far side of the kitchen, he entered a short hallway and then opened a door into a large bedroom with windows facing the back of the house. Ms. Woods followed.
"This is
your bedroom," he stated the obvious.
"Thank you, Mr. Spencer."
"Ah, please call me Wade. Um…about Zoe, I don't know how you managed it, but I've never seen her come out of an episode so fast."
"Instinct, I guess. I've worked with troubled girls before. Zoe is…special." She changed the subject. "Now, if I'm calling you Wade, you must call me Fawn."
Wade scratched the stubble on his jaw, still amazed at what he'd seen. "Okay."
CHAPTER 4:
GIRL TALK
Fawn sat on the side of her bed and perused her surroundings. Being tucked off the kitchen and secluded from the rest of the house suited her just fine. She smiled. Tonight, she'd slip out the kitchen door and shift into—she pondered for only a second—a feral horse. Feral herds roamed the area and the thought of running with them brought goose bumps to her arms.
Lying across her bed she retrieved her cell phone and called her friend Rainey.
Rainey answered immediately, "Hey Fawn, you've got a special ring on my phone."
"Yeah, and what's that?"
"A dolphin's chatter, of course."
Fawn laughed. "So Roth told you how much I love the species, but I've never received an assignment…" Her voice trailed and she finished with, "…you know what I mean." She always refrained from going into details about shapeshifting while communicating via phone or internet.
"Yeah, I know," Rainey agreed. "So how's the new assignment? You're in a beautiful location. With Roth hovering like a mother hen and insisting I rest, I've been reading about the Four Corners region of the U.S."
"Well, I agree with Roth, you're about to pop with that baby. You need to take it easy."
"Thanks Fawn, that's just what I wanted to hear; makes me sound like I look like a balloon." Rainey pretended to be offended and then laughed.
Fawn responded, "Our little prince is going to make his debut soon and his mother can't be exhausted from lab work." Fawn knew Rainey understood the deeper meaning to her reference to "prince." The full prophesy of the Great Prince was known only to a few humans and shapelings.
"You're right, of course. So, tell me about your new digs."
"I have a room away from the rest of the house which makes it nice for night escapes."
"Oh, I'm glad to hear that. What about the family?"
"They're not exactly what I expected. Mr. Spencer doesn't talk much. And I don't think I'm what he expected, either. For a minute, I thought he was going to tell me to catch the next hopper back to Denver."
"Well, Fawn, you're not exactly the matronly looking type. Goodness, I used to be so jealous when I thought you and Roth were having an affair. You're stunning and gorgeous."
"Rainey, I am not. I'm just a hardworking–" She refrained from saying the word shapeling. "–girl, doing her best to complete her latest–" She refrained from saying mission. "–job."
"Whatever," Rainey chuckled. So tell me, what's Mr. Spencer like? Is he a handsome cowboy?"
"Rainey, you are incorrigible. He's a…rough cowboy. According to human standards of handsome, I'd say he's average. The co-Princes said he was in the car accident that killed his wife, so maybe that's where he got the scar that runs across his right jaw. It actually doesn't detract from his looks. His eyes are a lovely shade of green; he's tall and lean—probably 6'3" and wears typical cowboy garb: Levis, chambray shirt, boots, big belt buckle. His hair is brown with blond sun streaks. He–
"Whoa girl, for someone who doesn't pay attention to looks, I'd say you're paying a lot of attention."
"Rainey, you asked for a description."
"Okay, okay. Tell me about the child."
"She's seven, small for her age. When I first arrived she was having issues—wanted the voices in her head to stop talking."
"Oh, my. What happened?"
"Actually, I'm not sure if she was trying to get attention or really hearing something. I sat beside her until she calmed down and then she retreated into her own little world."
"I can relate to that. I grew up in my own world believing my mother didn't love me. How wrong I was."
"Well, it appears that Zoe has never recovered from her mother's death."
"That poor child; I'm glad you're there for her."
"Things have certainly started out with a bang. But I better run. Mr. Spencer said he'd show me around the ranch."
"Okay, Fawn. Call if you need anything. Talk to you later."
Fawn set her cell phone on her bedside table and entered the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. She pulled a brush through her straight, shoulder-length hair, and drew it into a pony tail. Splashing cool water on her face, she pinched her cheeks for color, and returned to the kitchen. Wade sat at a small drop-leaf table in the center of the room, sipping a cup of coffee.
"Hello Mr. Spen…Wade. How is Zoe?"
"She's sleeping now. This would be a good time to show you around. Would you like a cup of coffee? I think there's tea if you'd prefer."
"Coffee's fine."
Wade started to rise.
"No, please don't get up. I see the pot." Fawn lifted a cup from the cup-tree and poured herself the blackest coffee she'd ever seen. "Do you have flavored creamer?"
"Ah…no. We've got real cream in the fridge though. I'll get it for you."
"No, no. I'll get it." Fawn walked to the refrigerator next to the back door and was surprised by how many cartons of cream were in the well-stocked jumble of items.
"Zoe likes cream on her cereal," Wade offered as explanation. "Sometimes that's all she'll eat so we go through a lot of it. Sugar's on the counter next to the coffee pot."
"Thanks, just cream is fine."
An uncomfortable silence settled.
"Well, why don't we take our coffees and I'll show you around the ranch?"
"I'd like that."
CHAPTER 5:
TOUR GUIDE
Wade opened the kitchen door and waited for Fawn to exit. Her glossy black hair in its pony tail bounced and he wanted to reach and encircle it with his fingers to see if it felt as silky as it looked.
Sam bounded around the side of the house and ran straight to Fawn. She knelt and scratched him behind his ears and he barked his "happy bark." Wade shook his head at the dog's antics.
Fawn looked up and said, "Your land is beautiful. How many acres do you own?"
"Close to two thousand. The house faces north, so we're looking south toward New Mexico; southwest is Arizona and west is Utah. The Four Corners area is where the states of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah meet. We're about forty miles from there."
"It's where the Anasazi lived, correct?"
"Yes, their ancient dwellings are scattered throughout the area. I've even found some in a canyon on my own land." The minute Wade said the words he wanted to take them back. If the information got leaked he'd have archeologists and government people swarming his land. He cleared his throat and said, "Ah, Hidden Canyon is not public information and I'd like to keep it that way."
"I promise I won't tell anyone."
"Thanks. Come on, I'll show you the stables and living quarters for the ranch hands." He walked beyond the shade of his two-story ranch house and into a blazing sun igniting westward craggy hills aglow. His great-grandfather and grandfather had cleared the land for the main house and erected the outbuildings, corrals, and pasture fencing with their own hands. He led Fawn toward the barn with Sam at her heels, but turned to Sam and ordered, "Go guard the house." Sam looked innocently at him and whined. Wade couldn't believe it. His dog never disobeyed him.
Fawn again knelt before Sam and patted his back. "You know you have to follow Wade's orders. We'll spend time together later."
Wade's jaw dropped when Sam turned with his tail between his legs and slowly started back to the house. As if nothing was amiss, Fawn stood and waited for him to continue the tour. He shook his head and led her into the coolness of the barn and stopped at Misty Morning's stall.
Rubbing the mare's head, he s
aid, "Hello, girl." When Fawn patted Misty's shoulder, he introduced his horse. "This is Misty Morning. I rescued her from ending up at the glue factory. She'd been mistreated and looked nothing like she does now and she's turned into the best horse I've ever owned. I named her Misty Morning because I was driving past an old farmhouse at dawn and almost didn't see her because of the mist. I made inquiries about the owner of the farm and picked up some bad vibes, so I went back and purchased her from the old tyrant."
"Hello, Misty Morning. I'm happy to meet you." The horse whinnied and turned her head toward Fawn.
"Looks like she's takin' a liking to you. She's usually skittish around newcomers."
"I have a way with animals."
Obviously. Wade watched Fawn lean her forehead against Misty's snout. He'd never seen his dog or his horse bond so quickly with a stranger. He motioned past the stall. "We'll leave the barn through the back entrance. There are two other buildings. One is the kitchen and dining hall, the other is living quarters for the hands."
Fawn gave Misty a last pat and followed him. He said, "The guys are out repairing fences and looking for strays."
Fawn chuckled. "Doing cowboy stuff?"
Wade smiled. "Yeah, cowboy stuff. They'll be returning in an hour for supper." He opened the door to the dining hall, and, as if to underscore his words about supper, they heard a loud clang and what sounded like French cursing coming from the kitchen.
Wade sighed. "Prepare yourself to meet Pierre. For the last ten years he's done nothing but complain about having to prepare American slop. Every now and again, he sneaks in some fancy French dish which the guys razz him about. He claims all cowhands have no palette discernment and his fancy dishes usually end up being fed to the hogs." He laughed. "The hogs love Pierre."
Leading Fawn past two rectangular dining tables pushed end-to-end, with benches for seating, he held open a swinging door and called out, "Hey, Pierre, watch your language, you've got company."
"Que? What? Company?"