Wrangling the Rancher Read online

  As she approached the Eagle Valley, nestled in the hollow of three mountain ranges, she felt a growing sense of relief. She was entering a world where no one knew that she’d failed, that her careful life plans had gone askew.

  Sweet anonymity.

  Even the guy she was stopping to see shouldn’t know what was going on, since she’d only recently—as in nine short hours ago—confessed to her grandfather that for the past eight weeks she’d been unemployed and had no real prospects.

  She needed to temporarily lower her standards, find a job—any job—so that she didn’t have a big hole in her résumé. She could deal with a short-term cut in pay and fewer benefits, but if she did that, she had to come up with a way to cover expenses until she once again landed a job in her field. That was where Karl came in. She was going to have to ask her grandfather for a helping hand—no easy task when she’d been incommunicado for months. She’d been bad. And karma had bitten her on the ass.

  * * *

  COLE WAS DRINKING coffee when he heard the sound of an engine. He glanced at the clock and frowned. Five thirty seemed too early for a social call...maybe the granddaughter had once again called law enforcement?

  He set down his cup and went to the door. The car that pulled up was low slung and sexy. A thin coat of dust covered the silver finish, but it was obviously a car that had been well cared for. The woman climbing out of the driver’s side wasn’t that tall, but she was fit and sexy, with long blond hair pulled into a low ponytail. She perfectly matched the vehicle. She shaded her eyes when she caught sight of him standing on the porch watching her, then squared her shoulders and marched toward him.

  The granddaughter. This should prove interesting.

  Cole leaned against the newel post and waited. A guy didn’t spend eight years working on a guest ranch without learning to both read people and deal with them effectively. His read on this woman—simmering anger. Frustration. In need of a scapegoat for...something. No question as to whom that scapegoat might be.

  “Hi,” he said when she hit the end of the broken-up walkway. “Want some coffee?”

  Her brisk steps slowed. “You don’t know who I am.”

  “I’m guessing that you’re Karl’s granddaughter.” He jerked his head toward the house. “I just made a fresh pot.” He ran his gaze over her. “You look like you could use a cup.”

  Her bemused expression changed to something approaching a smirk. “Thanks.”

  With a casual shrug, he opened the door. The woman hesitated, then preceded him into the house.

  “It hasn’t changed much,” she said.

  “Why would I change it?”

  She shot him a look. “I guess that depends on why you’re here.”

  He went into the kitchen and pulled a second mug down from the cupboard near the sink. “I’m here to farm. Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to check on the welfare of my grandfather.”

  “Then,” he asked in a reasonable voice before handing her the steaming cup, “why aren’t you in Dillon, where your grandfather is?”

  Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. A woman used to playing her hand carefully. “That is where I’m going.”

  “Just thought you’d stop by? Introduce yourself?” He set down his own coffee and held out a hand. “Cole Bryan.”

  She returned his handshake. “Taylor Evans.”

  “Nice to meet you, Taylor. And thanks for calling the deputies on me.”

  “I didn’t have a lot of choice. My aunt wouldn’t answer her phone, you answered my grandfather’s phone and I was concerned.”

  “Yet not concerned enough to keep closer tabs on your grandfather over the past several months.”

  Her expression iced over. “There were circumstances at play there.” He lifted his eyebrows politely. “Private circumstances,” she said in a tone indicating that if he had any manners at all, he would stop the questions now.

  He took a sip of coffee. If she thought cool superiority was going to make him remember his place, she had another think coming. Having worked with a master of the freeze strategy—his step-aunt and former boss, Miranda Bryan—she was going to have to do better than this.

  “Are you satisfied now that all is well?”

  He could tell the word no teetered on the edge of her lips, but she caught it before it fell. “I guess I don’t understand why you’re here in the house. My grandfather said he doesn’t think he’ll be in Dillon for all that long.”

  “Maybe your grandfather is lonely and would like a roommate.”

  “My grandfather is not the roommate kind.”

  “You sound certain.”

  “I know him.”

  “Yet you didn’t know he moved.”

  Irritation flashed across her features. “Would you stop bringing that up?”

  “Sorry.” He set down his cup and gripped the counter on each side of his hips. “Maybe if you told me why you’re here, I can help you out, and then you can continue on to Dillon.”

  She smiled tightly. “Yes. What a great idea. I wanted to meet you.”

  “Make sure I was on the up-and-up?”

  “My grandfather always leased his land to the neighbor to farm. I understand the neighbor is still farming.”

  “Are you suggesting that I might have persuaded him to lease to me instead?”

  She gave a small shrug. “The thought crossed my mind.”

  “I did.”

  Her eyes widened, and it took her a few seconds to say, “How long have you known my grandfather?”

  “He used to cowboy with my grandfather a long time ago.”

  “Karl never was a cowboy.”

  Cole said nothing. He wasn’t going to argue the point.

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Not that I knew of anyway.”

  A slight step back, which gave her a couple of points in his book. “I didn’t use any kind of coercion. I just...talked to him.”

  “And ended up living in his house. Using his stuff.”

  “I’m a smooth talker.” And since her suspicions—her attitude, really—was starting to piss him off, he saw no reason to mention that Karl had been concerned about the place being broken into during his absence. Having Cole living there solved a problem for both of them, but too much explaining was only going to give her more to latch onto. He glanced past Taylor to the teapot-shaped clock on the wall. “I also have to get to work.”

  “You have a job?”

  “Yes,” he said in his patient guest-ranch-manager voice. “I’m a farmer.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  TAYLOR DIDN’T KNOW what to think when she got back into her car. The guy didn’t seem like a criminal, but he also wasn’t giving her much to work with as far as making judgments about him. Even though he was a self-proclaimed farmer, she’d bet money that he’d worked in a people-related field in the past. And he was ridiculously good-looking. His face was all angles and hollows, and she was fairly certain if he smiled, he’d have some decent creases down his cheeks. Dark hair, light green eyes...a lot to like there. Physically. Having worked with her fair share of attractive guys who turned out to be control freaks and douchebags, she no longer judged the book by the cover. A pretty face didn’t mean the guy wasn’t taking advantage of Karl. She’d ask her grandfather a few more questions once she got to Dillon.

  And then she’d sleep. Night was her time, but it had been a long, rainy drive and she was exhausted. She hoped Karl had a spare room so she could crash.

  As it turned out, there was no spare room in either place. Her grandfather and great-aunt shared a small duplex—two one bedroom apartments separated by a garage. Elise’s side was crammed with bric-a-brac, pillows, afghans and all manner of comfortable, cushy things, while on Karl’s side furniture was scarce, co
nsisting of a secondhand dinette set, one leather recliner and a hundred-year-old sofa that he proclaimed to be “just fine.” And it was, if you didn’t mind sinking to the floor when you sat down. Taylor had a feeling that her grandfather didn’t much care—he had his recliner and very few visitors, since his friends all lived in the Eagle Valley.

  After visiting with Elise, Taylor and her grandfather went through the connecting garage to his side of the duplex. Taylor took the cup of tea he brewed, then made the mistake of sitting on the sofa. She sank low and her knees felt like they were close to her chin. There was no end table to put her cup on, so she was stuck sitting there until she either finished her tea or asked her grandfather for help. She decided to finish her tea. Karl settled in his recliner, and if he noticed her discomfort, he said nothing.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said. “I was in a work frenzy from Christmas until two months ago—”

  “And then you got fired.”

  “Laid off, Grandpa.” She stared down into her tea. Laid off. Let go. It was the same as being terminated but didn’t carry quite as much stigma. “I didn’t see it coming.”

  “After working those crazy hours, I imagine not.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So now what, Tay?”

  “I’ve been looking for work in Seattle, and it seems that everyone is tightening their belts.”

  “Have you looked elsewhere?”

  “The Bay Area, Portland. Spokane.” But it was going to be expensive to relocate.

  “Nothing?” He gave her a look that made her feel as if she needed to say something to convince him that she wasn’t slacking. Or maybe to convince herself she wasn’t slacking.

  “Not even an interview. The most I’ve gotten is ‘we’ll keep your name on file.’” She took a sip of tea and managed not to choke. Her grandfather made tea the way other people made coffee. “I just need to be patient. Times are tough, but I know if I persevere, I’ll nail something down.” Another small sip, because small was all she could handle. “Something even better than what I had.”

  “And for now?” Her grandfather gave her a shrewd look. “Because it appears that this might take some time.”

  Taylor balanced her cup on her knee. “Yes. About that...if I don’t get an infusion of cash soon, I’ll lose my apartment.”

  “I can see that happening,” Karl agreed, which was not the response she’d expected.

  “I was on a waiting list for almost two years to get into that building.” Downtown, close to the Wharf. She loved it so much—she felt a rush of gratefulness every time she looked out over the city and the Sound from her bedroom window—and since there was only one bedroom, a roommate wasn’t possible.

  “Things change, Tay.”

  Things change? Yes, they did, but if one was resourceful, they didn’t have to change too much.

  “I don’t want to lose my apartment, and I don’t want to drain my savings keeping it.”

  “What about your car?”

  “I can’t get out of it what I put into it, but yes, I will sell it...if I have to.”

  Karl leaned forward in his chair. “What do you want, Taylor? From me, I mean.”

  She felt her cheeks go warm. He was gently chiding her. They’d been super close at one time, and he’d always been her biggest cheerleader. But when she went to work for Stratford, she’d started logging the crazy hours, living a crazy life. When she wasn’t working or trying to cram some relaxation in—which was almost as exhausting as working—she was sleeping. She’d meant to call, truly she had.

  But she hadn’t.

  “The money you lent me to go to school?” Which she’d paid back in full over a year ago. “Could I borrow it again?”

  Her grandfather’s mouth tightened, and the fact that he didn’t instantly say yes made her stomach knot up. “I put it into some long-term funds. If I pull it out now, I’m going to lose money.”

  Taylor’s heart sank. It was his money, of course, but...honestly? She’d figured borrowing the money back would be a slam dunk and mutually beneficial. Karl would get interest. She’d get a safety net, which, properly managed, would help her if she took one of many much-lower-paying jobs she’d been looking at to tide her over.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  She tried to work up a smile but had a feeling it looked kind of sick, because she felt kind of sick. “I understand. And...this isn’t the only reason I’m here.”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you that I was a loser.”

  “Everyone loses, Tay.”

  Not her. Not often, at least, and never in such a huge way.

  “I guess.” She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t stomach any more of the strong tea, which meant she was stuck on the sofa forever or until Karl relieved her of the cup.

  She looked at her grandfather then and wondered, judging from the way he was looking at her, if he wanted her trapped there.

  “You know,” he said slowly, “you’re welcome to live on the farm if you want and look for a job locally to tide you over. I’d invite you to live here, but I don’t have much room.”

  That was an understatement. His house had one bedroom, one bath, a tiny kitchen and a living room. It was truly a single-person house.

  “I...uh...” Would hate so much to lose my place. The apartment was even more of a symbol of what she’d accomplished than her car. And her mother was so ridiculously proud of her. “I appreciate it, Grandpa. But what about that guy living there?”

  “There’s always the bunkhouse.”

  “It needs work.”

  “You’re resourceful.”

  “Me?” Taylor almost spilled her tea. And she felt ridiculously betrayed. “But—”

  “He’s paid a month’s rent on the house. It wouldn’t be right to ask him to move midmonth.”

  “Just one month?”

  “I’m keeping my options open, so we have a month-to-month deal.” He glanced through the window at his sister’s place next door. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Elise is doing better, but she hates being alone.”

  “How long has he been on the farm?”

  Her grandfather did a mental calculation. “Two weeks yesterday.”

  Which meant his month in the house was already halfway over. That made Taylor feel better. To a degree.

  Move to the farm...? As much as she appreciated the offer, it was a crazy idea. More than that, it was demoralizing.

  “The thing is...if I move to the Eagle Valley—” and somehow keep it quiet from her mother “—it feels like I’m giving up.”

  “Why? Aren’t there jobs in your field in Missoula or Bozeman?”

  “I’m sure there are.” In her field, but probably not at her level.

  “They may not be as prestigious,” her grandfather said, reading her thoughts, “but they’d pay the bills.”

  “Yes.” Hard to argue with that. Taylor took a drink of tea, trying to tamp down the feeling that she was being sucked into a farm vortex. She’d never once considered moving two states away from her beloved Seattle, or settling in a rural area, but the idea made an awful kind of sense. Her living expenses would be slashed to next to nothing. She was having no luck in her job search, and each day brought with it a deeper sense of desperation and depression. If something didn’t change soon, she’d have to sell her car, find a new living situation—one that involved roommates—and she’d have to pass a credit check to join a lease and...

  “The farm would be a stopgap, until you get back on your feet.”

  When had she become so transparent?

  Taylor moistened her lips. “How would your tenant take the news if I decided to move in?”

  “Cole’s a decent guy.”

  If you say so...
“What made you decide to rent the house to him instead of just leaving it closed up?”

  “I didn’t want it broken into while I’m gone, and with him living there, he can farm more easily.”

  He could also farm easily from the bunkhouse. He was a farm guy. Probably used to roughing it.

  “How well do you know him?”

  “Not all that well personally. His grandfather and I were friends.”

  “Did you...cowboy together?”

  Karl gave her a surprised look. “I wasn’t much of a cowboy, but I worked for two summers on the Bryan family ranch near Missoula. It’s a guest ranch now. Cole used to manage it until he got his fill.”

  So he had indeed worked in a people-related field. Her radar was working.

  “And did you approach him, or did he approach you?”

  “He approached me.” One corner of Karl’s mouth quirked up. “Are you concerned about him taking advantage of me?”

  “It happens.”

  “Yes. But not in this case.”

  “You’re sure? You said you didn’t know him well, yet you let him live there with all your stuff.”

  “Yep. Because you know what? I’m a grown-up and I can make those kinds of decisions for myself.”

  “I didn’t mean...” Taylor stopped. Regrouped. “I apologize, Grandpa. It startled me when he answered the phone yesterday. We got off on the wrong foot.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  Kid. Ha. He was a grown man. Good-looking. Sexy. But an interloper all the same.

  “Do you want to move onto the farm?”

  Did she? Was she that desperate? Totally, or she wouldn’t be here right now. She’d started the drive because she was concerned about her grandfather and felt guilty for not being in closer contact, but she’d also needed to talk to him about a way out. The way she’d thought was so reasonable—the loan—wasn’t going to work, so that meant she needed to get tough and try something new.