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Authors: Callie Endicott

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BOOK: The Rancher's Prospect
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Tara grinned. “Glad you like it.”

He settled back with a sigh. “I've mostly been in the foaling barn since yesterday afternoon. My favorite mare, Belle, had a hard delivery, and the foal wasn't doing well at first.”

“How are they now?”

“Much better.” He smiled tiredly, almost dreamily, and she suspected he'd taken a pain pill. “Evelyn and I celebrated whenever a new colt or filly came along. We were only blessed with Sarah, so the foals became the other children we couldn't have. I remember the day Belle was born. Evelyn and I spent the night in the barn and danced in the rain the next morning. Evelyn was so beautiful...hair all wet and her blue eyes shining like cornflowers...”

Walt's voice trailed off, and his eyelids drooped. Tara gently took the mug and set it on the table. He mumbled something and relaxed into sleep, something she figured he badly needed.

Yet as she returned to the paperwork she was sorting by the year, she was puzzled anew by the devotion Walt expressed for his wife. Josh believed his grandparents' marriage had been less than happy, however civil it might have been. But what she kept hearing from Walt told a very different story. Of course, he might be idealizing Evelyn now that she was gone. On the other hand, grandsons couldn't possibly know everything about their grandparents.

The wastebasket filled for the third time that day, and she took it out to the metal barrel behind the office. Walt had explained they didn't have garbage service this far out of Schuyler, so they burned everything combustible and one of the ranch hands took a load to the town landfill every week or two.

“You weren't supposed to throw any papers away until I'd checked them,” Josh said out of the blue.

Startled, her arm jerked and most of the wastebasket's contents fell outside the barrel.

“Thanks loads,” she yelped, grabbing for the paper sailing away in the afternoon breeze.

It took several minutes and long dashes in different directions before everything was stuffed back into the wastebasket.

“Okay,” she hissed, breathing hard with the effort. “Since you don't trust me to tell the difference between a record and trash, you can go through every scrap. I'm sure Walt won't mind
that
.” She pulled a handful out and handed it to him.

His face was expressionless as he glanced at the doodles and stray figures that had no meaning or reference.

“Walt told me to get rid of this kind of thing,” she continued, “along with old newspapers and advertising flyers, which I'm finding everywhere. But you know best, so you really ought to micromanage the entire trash detail. By the way, I brought two other loads out earlier, so check carefully.” She kicked the heavy metal drum.

Josh took the wastebasket, emptied it into the barrel and replaced the heavy lid. “Sorry, I overreacted.”

“That seems to be your favorite activity. Have you made any more emergency trips to the medical clinic?”

Tight-lipped, he wheeled around and marched away without responding.

Suddenly tired, Tara went back into the office. Walt was awake again, blinking sleepily.

“I thought you'd left,” he grumbled.

“Not until you introduce me to your new foal.”

His face brightened. “Let's go.” He struggled to his feet, and Tara debated whether to offer assistance.
Perhaps not.
The old guy was proud and must hate appearing weak in front of anybody.

Walt limped toward the barns. At one of the well-kept structures, he turned into an open door and led her to a large stall. Josh was there with a cowhand who seemed to regard Walt with apprehension.

“Tara wants to see the foal,” Walt announced brusquely.

Josh's eyes narrowed, whether from irritation or something else she didn't know. Walt stepped into the stall, and his face softened as he murmured to the mare and her baby.

Tara didn't know much about equine bloodlines, but clearly Belle was special. She had a dark coat, almost black, with a hint of red. Her head arched high and proud while her eyes seemed unusually intelligent. And watchful. Though she showed pleasure at seeing Walt, she kept a close watch on the stranger he'd brought.

The newborn stood close to its mother's side, teetering on legs that looked too thin to hold it up. Except for a white blaze on its nose, it was a perfect miniature of Belle.

The cowhand tipped his hat to Tara in a gesture that was quickly becoming familiar, and hurried away, no doubt uncomfortable with the tension between the new ranch owner and the former one.

The mare whinnied nervously.

“Whoa, Belle, honey,” Walt murmured to soothe her. His old hands caught her halter and he waved at Tara to come closer.

“Be careful where you step,” Josh warned. “You aren't wearing boots.”

It was good advice, though delivered in a mocking tone. She was wearing a favorite pair of Italian sandals and would hate to ruin them. So Tara moved carefully into the stall. The foal's gaze met hers, and she felt a sense of wonder akin to what she'd felt upon seeing her first kangaroo in the wild.

“What is it, male or female?” she asked.

“It's a filly. That means it's a female,” Josh said as if she was simpleminded.

“I'm sure she knows that, but even if she doesn't, you don't need to be condescending,” Walt admonished. “Tara has never been on a ranch before, so we can't expect her to know what we take for granted. Your grandma didn't have a clue in the beginning, and she learned.”

The hostility between them seemed to intensify again, so Tara smiled at Walt. “It's a beautiful baby. Have you picked a name?”

“What would you call her?” Walt asked.

“I don't know what names are good for horses,” she admitted. “How many are born on the ranch each year?”

“Around twelve,” Walt said. “Folks like our horses real well, even if we don't have one of those fancy breeding programs.”

He threw a challenging stare at Josh and Tara understood why the ranch hands would be uneasy in their presence. Did their relationship disintegrate after Josh became the owner of the Boxing N, or had it always been this bad?

“I'm going to call this little one Tara,” Walt announced. “We've never had a Tara on the Boxing N.”

From the corner of Tara's eye, she saw the usual muscle in Josh's jaw tighten. His uptight expression was as predictable as the sun coming up in the morning.

“That's flattering,” she told Walt, “but I won't feel bad if you change your mind and call her something else.”

“Nope, Tara it is.” His head cocked. “It's always good to have a story to go along with a name. Why did your folks call you Tara?”

Though she smiled, she winced inside. “I'm afraid I don't know. I never knew my parents.”

“That's a shame. Our daughter used to love hearing us tell how Evelyn and I met in San Francisco, down in Chinatown, while I was visiting the West Coast. She called me a bullheaded cowboy whose brains were in his boots, but married me anyhow.”

“I can see how your daughter would have enjoyed that. As for me, I grew up in foster homes,” she explained quietly.

“Don't you remember, Grandpa?” Josh asked in a louder voice. “Tara is Lauren Spencer's twin sister. They were separated as babies and met for the first time last year. They visited at the hospital when Alaina was having her baby.”

“Of course I remember talking to Tara at the hospital—that's how I knew what kind of work she does,” Walt answered testily.

“I'd better leave now,” Tara interjected. “Thanks for showing me your new filly, Walt.” She turned, glared at Josh and carefully picked her way out of the barn.

* * *

J
OSH
FOLLOWED
AS
Tara headed for the ranch office. He had to hustle because she could walk quickly in those ridiculous sandals. Ridiculous, that was, for a ranch. They looked insanely sexy on her, as well.

“What's your problem now?” he demanded.

“About what?”

“You seemed upset back there. I apologized for overreacting about the trash. Are you still holding a grudge?”

“No more than
you're
holding one because I didn't take your advice about what clothes to wear.”

Josh sighed. Tara's clothing bothered him because he was attracted to her and didn't want to be. Hell, she was a city woman with an annoying personality. The puzzle was how she managed to get along so well with his grandfather when he could barely get Walt to share a civil conversation. Their relationship had never been great; now it was lousy.

“Why did you leave the barn in a huff?” he asked again.

“It wasn't a huff. I just don't appreciate hearing you imply that Walt is having memory problems.”

“I didn't,” Josh denied, only to question whether it might have sounded that way. The doctor had warned the family to keep a watchful eye, and it was hard to figure out what his grandfather knew and didn't know. Sometimes Josh even wondered if Walt was covering a memory lapse with his irascible behavior. “Grandpa has issues and I'm trying to gauge how serious they might be. You must have noticed how he ducked the question about you and your sister.”

He didn't want to admit that Dr. Taylor was worried his grandfather could be suffering from depression. It wouldn't be unusual in light of his injuries and the dramatic changes to his world.

Tara's face grew thoughtful. “Strong medication might cause lapses in memory. And when you think about it, being unable to remember the situation with me and Lauren isn't remarkable. Walt has far more important things to deal with right now.”

“True. We've had a hard time getting him to use the proper dosage until the pain gets out of control, then I suspect he takes too much.” Josh hesitated. “The two of you seem to be getting along. Is there any chance you could encourage him to participate in a pain-management program? Dr. Taylor has mentioned it, but Grandpa called it ‘la-di-da nonsense.'”

“That sounds like him. I'll think about it, but don't get your hopes up. He might fire me on the spot...or is that why you suggested it?” The tiniest smile gleamed in Tara's blue eyes.

“Definitely not. At least this time.”

She grinned more widely. “I'll take your word for it...this time.”

Josh chuckled. Maybe there
was
a reason his grandfather enjoyed Tara's company so much. She had a sharp wit and didn't back down. Walt had never liked quitters and wouldn't respect anyone who wasn't willing take it on the chin for something they believed in.

“Is there anything else you want?” Tara asked.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for the information you put together this morning. Has the computer been delivered?”

“Yes, and Desiree, the employee from Schuyler Office Supplies, installed the payroll program. It shouldn't take long to get the process functional. But you'll have to wait to print checks off the system. I asked if the store had blank check stock, and Desiree said they'd need to put in a special order.”

He nodded. “Thanks for jumping on it right way. I'm sure you're interested in getting paid, as well.”

The humor in Tara's face vanished. “That isn't why I made it a priority. Walt is my employer, so the ranch's payroll records have nothing to do with me,” she explained with exaggerated patience.

“There's no need to get touchy again. I just don't want the Boxing N to become known for tardy payments. Integrity is important.”

She let out a long breath. “I'm glad you value integrity, but you haven't lived paycheck to paycheck without your family's wealth to keep you secure. I grew up in neighborhoods where an overdue check meant a family couldn't eat or pay the rent. Some of the Boxing N's ranch hands may be in the same boat. That's more important than your reputation.”

Heat crept up Josh's neck. “I know that. What kind of person do you think I am?”

Tara lifted her shoulders. The gesture was elegant, and he couldn't help thinking that she'd look more at home at a French château than in Montana. “All I know is what I've seen between you and Walt, and the way you acted at the clinic,” she said. “Oh, and the way you've done your level best to get rid of me. It hasn't been impressive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get my things. I've had a long day.”

He watched her go into the office and then come out again and leave in her car.

She had a point. He'd never expected things to turn out like this. Sometimes he didn't recognize himself when he was arguing with Walt or agonizing over a cowhand quitting.

As for Tara?

On one matter they totally agreed: they didn't care for each other. That was okay, though he was fighting an undeniable attraction to her, a response that was purely chemical. She had masses of honey-gold hair and her eyes were amazing, blue with copper flecks. Her figure was slim in the right places and nicely curved everywhere else.

The mystery was why he didn't feel the same response to her twin sister. Although he wasn't interested in a relationship, Lauren was someone who fit in Montana, whereas Tara was standing in the way of his goals, right along with Walt.

Sometimes Josh wanted to tear his hair out when he and his grandfather argued in front of the ranch hands. Clear lines of authority were needed on a ranch, but he couldn't blame the hands for being uncertain about who was in charge. It would get even worse once the Boxing N employees figured out the person working in the ranch's business office didn't work for him.

He pictured Tara in his mind. Silk and linen clothing despite his warnings. An air of sophistication and hints of an accent in her voice that showed how long she'd worked outside the United States. In one of his grandfather's less irascible moments, he'd mentioned her love for travel and living in different countries. While it was clear she'd never fit in in Schuyler, it seemed equally clear she didn't
want
to fit in. Not that he'd known that when they first met. His instincts had simply told him she was a very beautiful, attractive woman who was utterly
impossible
.

BOOK: The Rancher's Prospect
5.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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