Making Room for the Rancher

by Christy Jeffries

  “Crush and run?”

  “Crushed-up rock to fill in the potholes.”

  “Oh.”

  Hunter glanced over at her. “That might just be one of your first jobs. Dragging the crush and run.”

  Skyler reached for the dashboard to stabilize her body with one hand and hold on to her hat with the other; the truck was bobbing and weaving around so much that she actually began to feel a bit seasick.

  “Whatever you need me to do, I will do it.” Skyler closed her eyes and fought the feeling of seasickness.

  “You okay over there?” She heard Hunter ask the question as he thankfully pulled off the main, pothole-riddled road onto a less bumpy drive.

  “Yes. Just a touch of benign positional vertigo, is all. Nothing to worry about.” She kept her eyes tightly closed.

  Hunter slammed on the brakes in a way that made Skyler wonder if he was deliberately making her problem worse. The truck jerked to a halt, which made her head snap back against the headrest, and her hat fell forward over her face.

  “We’re here,” he said.

  Skyler pushed up the brim of her hat so she could see her summer home-away-from-home. Off the main road, they had driven through a canopy of trees to an opening. Tucked away in the woods there was a private oasis with rustic storage buildings, a horse stable, pastureland and a quaint cabin complete with a front porch and rocking chairs.

  “This is mine?”

  “Yep.” Hunter hopped out of the truck.

  “All mine?”

  “All yours.”

  “For the whole summer?” She opened the passenger door, her eyes darting from one spot to another. She had grown up in the city; she loved it and was accustomed to sharing a small amount of square footage with a large amount of people. She had never imagined having this much square footage all to herself.

  “This—” she pushed the door slowly shut behind her “—is amazing. Truly amazing.”

  Hunter was already hauling her bags out of the back of his truck; he seemed like he was in a hurry to be rid of her. It stung a little that the Hunter Brand hadn’t immediately fallen head over heels for her, as per her thousands of teenage fantasy reels she had played in her head. But that disappointment was overtaken by the sheer beauty all around her. If she had any doubt about her decision to come to Montana so soon after she’d been given the “all clear for now” by her team of doctors, those doubts were gone. This part of the world, so quiet and peaceful, filled with the scent of pine in the air, was exactly the place she needed to be to fully recover. This was somewhere she could build her strength, emotionally and physically.

  Skyler wanted to explore the grounds and take some pictures for her friends, but followed Hunter’s lead instead and tugged one of her suitcases out of the bed of the truck. She let it land on the ground with a thud and then dragged it behind her. The suitcase wheels hit some rocks and twigs along the way, tipping the bag sideways. By the time she reached the porch steps, she was winded, perspiring and a little bit dizzy. She forced herself not to show on the outside how weak she was feeling on the inside. Her pride wanted to hide her vulnerability from Hunter; not that she should care what her teenage crush thought about her...and yet, she kind of did. Kind of.

  Grunting and pulling and bracing her legs so she could tug the suitcase to the top of the steps before Hunter returned to find her, once again, struggling, Skyler finally managed to drag the bag onto the porch. For a moment, she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Lord have mercy, the surgery and chemo had sapped her completely of her stamina and strength.

  Without a word, Hunter came over, scooped up the bag at her feet, lifted it onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and went back into the cabin. Skyler followed him inside and watched as he dropped her last bag unceremoniously on top of her other bags he had stacked in the living room near an antique wood-burning stove.

  “Your family keeps this cabin for guests like me?” It was cozy and woodsy with shiplap walls, a vaulted ceiling in the living room and overstuffed furniture perfect for curling up for a nap. There was a small kitchen off the living room—a little outdated but clean and functional.

  “There’s never been a guest like you before.”

  “You’ve never had a guest like me before?” Skyler ran her hands across the hand-carved, butcher-block countertop.

  “No.” Hunter adjusted his hat on his head. “You’re the first.”

  As if to indicate he was finished with that topic, he turned his body slightly away from her and pointed down the hallway. “Bedroom. Bathroom. If you like TV you’re out of luck. Jock installed a hot spot.” Hunter pointed to a device on the counter. “Password is on the back.”

  “Okay,” Skyler said quietly, her mind still stuck on the idea that the Brand family had never had a guest like her before.

  “I stocked the fridge with some staples—the vegetables we grow on site, so there’s always more where that came from. We can go into town tomorrow and pick up anything else you think you might need.”

  Hunter stood with his hands on his hips for a minute, looked around for a second and then nodded toward the front door. “Let me take you on a quick tour outside before I go.”

  Skyler trailed behind him, through the front door, down the porch steps, still mulling over the fact that she was the first.

  “So, is this your cabin?” She had a horrible feeling in her gut that she had displaced him from his own home.

  “No,” Hunter replied. “This was my brother Liam’s cabin. All of us have a stake on the ranch. This is his. He’s out at the Triple K Ranch with his wife, Kate. He still keeps his old trucks in this shed right here.” He indicated one of the buildings. “So you might see him out here working on them.”

  “What’s in there?” Skyler pointed to a large building next to the garage.

  “My brother Shane built an obstacle course in there.”

  “Wow,” Skyler said. “That’s impressive.”

  “Yeah,” Hunter agreed. “Shane was a sergeant in the army. He recreated a lot of the obstacles they had in boot camp.”

  “My father was a gunnery sergeant in the marines.”

  For the first time, Hunter looked at her with a modicum of interest. “Is that right?”

  She nodded. “He worked on tanks and amphibious vehicles.”

  “Jock had me move some of the horses down from the main barn for your use.”

  “I have horses?”

  “Yes.” Hunter walked quickly toward the barn. “Jock was under the impression that you can ride.”

  Two summers at Circle F Dude Ranch were about to come in handy.

  “I know my way around a barn,” she said confidently.

  “Good,” he said tersely. “Because starting tomorrow, these two horses are your responsibility for the rest of the summer.”

  “Why start tomorrow when we have today right now?”

  Her comment stopped him in his tracks for a moment. “If you’re ready to get to work, there’s always work to do.”

  “I’m ready to work.”

  She was exhausted and already sweaty under her clothes; the wig was hot and she hated it. But tomorrow waited for no woman.

  Something akin to respect flashed in Hunter’s striking blue eyes. They were even deeper and bluer in person than they ever had been on TV or in pictures.

  “You might want to change into some work clothes then,” he advised over his shoulder as he headed toward the barn.

  She gave up trying to match his pace, wanting to save some sliver of energy for the barn work. She could collapse totally and completely after Hunter left. “These are my work clothes.”

  They entered the barn, which was old and felt “left behind.” There were layers of dust on overturned buckets, and dried-out currycombs left on a tack trunk between the stalls. The wash rack had a layer of
hay and dirt plugging the drain; there were cobwebs in almost every corner. The barn could be cleaned up with a little effort and elbow grease. Most important were the beautiful creatures that had been brought to the barn just for her.

  “This here is Zodiac.” Hunter’s tone was much gentler when he was with the horses. The tall chestnut-brown horse with a black mane and tail whickered at them and then nibbled at Hunter’s shirt.

  “Hi, Zodiac.” Skyler let the horse smell her hand. “You are so handsome.”

  “He’s a great cow pony.” Hunter gave the horse a pat on the neck. “He’ll take care of you out there.”

  Skyler nodded as if she understood his meaning, but she wasn’t sure what Hunter meant by “out there.” No doubt she would find out soon enough.

  “And this sweet girl is Dream Chaser.” Hunter smiled affectionately at the mare across the aisle from Zodiac. “She’s as pretty as they come and as sure-footed on the trail as any I’ve known.”

  “Hi, Dream Chaser.” Skyler pet the mare’s neck. She was smaller and stockier than Zodiac, with bright blue eyes and a white blaze on her face, with a brown body and white on her legs.

  “I brought a couple of bales of hay down from the main barn just to hold them over. We’ll go get more tomorrow and load up the feed room.”

  “Okay.” It seemed like Hunter intended to just fold her right into the work at the ranch, and that suited her just fine.

  Hunter disappeared out the back of the barn and returned with a wheelbarrow, a pitchfork and a shovel.

  “If you grab the manure, I’ll get the urine.” He handed her the pitchfork.

  The old pitchfork was constructed of wood and steel, and it was a whole lot heavier than it looked. When she took it in her hands, the unanticipated weight of it made her lower her hands a bit before she lifted it.

  If he noticed her struggling with the pitchfork, he didn’t show it. They mucked the stalls and gave the two horses some hay and feed. Then Hunter showed her how to get water from the garage over to the barn.

  “I hooked up this hose for the time being.” Hunter tugged on the heavy hose to pull it into the barn. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with the water pipes in here—I’ll have to look in to it later—but for now, this will work.” He stopped just inside the barn, turned on the water and let it stream out onto the gravel in front of the barn. “Make sure you let the water run for a while—the sun heats up the hose and you don’t want to be giving the horses hot water in their buckets.”

  By the time they dumped the stall pickings in a compost pile, Skyler didn’t have a dry spot on her body. Every crevice was soaked with sweat. Her new boots had been christened with horse manure and mud, her clothes were stuck to her skin, and yet, she felt elated. Exhausted and elated. It had taken all of her mental and physical strength to finish the chores, but she had persevered. She hadn’t given up, and she was proud of herself.

  “I’ve got jobs waiting on me,” Hunter said at the bottom of the porch steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow first thing.”

  Skyler leaned against the porch railing as much for stability as comfort.

  “Hunter?” She said his name to get his attention.

  He turned back to her, his eyebrows raised slightly with a question.

  “Why do you think Jock agreed to let me come?” She was still stuck on the idea that it wasn’t typical for the Brand family to have guests like her at the ranch. With everything going on in the world, why would Hunter’s father agree to it?

  Hunter repositioned his hat on his head. “You’ll have to ask him that yourself, Skyler. Jock didn’t ask for my permission and he didn’t factor in my opinion to his final decision.”

  “So you don’t think I should be here.” She posed it more as a statement of obvious fact rather than a question. She could read his behavior toward her easy enough.

  “We aren’t a dude ranch,” Hunter said matter-of-factly. “My number is on the refrigerator. If you need me, text me.”

  Skyler crossed her arms in front of her body. “I will. Thank you.”

  Right before he climbed behind the wheel of his truck, he said, “Get some rest, Skyler. The day starts before dawn and doesn’t end until after dark.”

  Copyright © 2021 by Joanna Sims

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  ISBN-13: 9781488075407

  Making Room for the Rancher

  Copyright © 2021 by Christy Jeffries

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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